I Heard You've Been Missing Me
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: She looks up at him, her eyes a deep and dark brown, and asks one simple question that would snowball into years of misgivings. "Can I come inside?" Mark/Lexie, what happens after she decides to stick with Jackson. AU post-season 7 finale. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

**Prompt/Inspiration: _Rumour Has It_ by Adele. Specifically the lyrics, _"I heard... you've been missing me / You've been telling people things you shouldn't be / Like when we creep out and [he] ain't around / Haven't you heard the rumors?"_**

Author's Note: Hi, guys! I started this whole idea a little while ago, with this small fic called "After." (You might want to read it before starting this one; you can find it on my page.) I just wanted to quickly mention two things: 1. all of the italicized parts are flashbacks and all of the regular stuff is narration 2. this first bit takes place where the season finale left off. Everything should be back up to real time in the next chapter. :) Enjoy!

_. . ._

_"Lexie?" Mark asks, opening the door to see her standing in front of him. "What are you doing here?"_

_"I lied," she tells him._

_"What?" Mark breathes, feeling his heartbeat quicken and his hopes soar against his better judgment._

_"About what I said before, not wanting to love you, I lied." She takes a breath. "I always want to love you."_

_Mark stares at her in awe. "You do?"_

_"Yes," Lexie whispers. She steps closer, looking him up and down. "And I've—I've missed you, Mark." Her breath catches as she utters his name, but she ignores it. "I've really missed you."_

_"I've missed you too," he replies, reaching out hesitantly to hold her wrist. Lexie shifts her arm within his light grasp, moving to hold his hand securely with hers. She looks up at him, her eyes a deep and dark brown, and asks one simple question that would snowball into years of misgivings._

_"Can I come inside?"_

_. . ._

…And that was how it all started. She appeared at his door one night and then never stopped appearing. He let her in that first time and then was never able to turn her down again. Things, of course, had changed since that opening encounter, but there were hardly any nights in those first few years that were different. She would always show up (unexpected, as Mark and Lexie liked to tell themselves) during the night, after she'd slipped away from Meredith's house and the man who would later become her husband.

She would materialize at his door as if she'd just teleported there, and knock softly, trying not to make the slightest noise to wake the neighbors. He would usher her inside, an easy smile lighting up both their faces when they were finally together again. After time, even the knocks would prove to be unnecessary, as she soon had her own key, hidden amongst the other and much less meaningful gold-colored metals on her key ring. When things progressed to Lexie letting herself inside, Mark would make sure he always appeared busy just around one or one-ten at night so as not to give her the idea that his whole schedule revolved around her. He would always have a medical journal handy or the TV on so as not to give her the idea that his whole existence revolved around _her_ and only _her_. That would be too much. There'd be no going back after that. And as much as Mark didn't _want _to go back, he wasn't sure he could handle it. So he allowed fate to be the dealer and let the cards fall where they may.

But even back then, part of her knew how much he looked forward to those visits. Mark was sure she'd never know the whole story, but for Lexie, knowing part of it was enough. Just knowing that he planned out these long stretches of happiness just as she did was a comfort. To know that she wasn't alone in her obsession was more than she could ever hope for.

. . .

_There's a quiet knock on the door. Mark exhales softly, walking slowly across the room to answer it. He opens the door and is in no way surprised by who he sees standing in front of him. In truth, he had wanted her to come. But another part of him had wanted her to stay away. Things were permanent in her life now; she didn't need him. Or so he tried to think._

_"Hi," Lexie smiles at him. Her voice is a sigh of relief—she's been waiting, desperate to see him, for weeks—but Mark looks anything but relaxed. He meets her eyes, both his expression and body language remain guarded as he holds the door only partway open._

_"What is it?" Lexie asks, noting the look on his face with worry. Mark nods towards the ring on her left hand._

_"You're married now, Lex," he whispers hoarsely. He swallows, not wanting her to see how hard it was for him to say those words aloud. "That makes this different. It makes this serious."_

_Lexie stares at him_. It's always been serious_, she wants to tell him. "I know," she replies instead, holding her breath, waiting for him to send her away._

_"That makes this adultery, Lexie," Mark presses, taking her hand lightly when he sees she's reaching out for him. He squeezes her fingers for emphasis. "Are you sure you can handle that?"_

_"I don't have a choice," she whispers. Mark nods in understanding, letting his eyes close briefly. Since the first night she ever showed up at his doorstep—stripped naked and uttered the words "teach me"—he hasn't had a choice, either. And up until now, he's never questioned that fact. He's never wanted to; he's never felt obligated to._

_"Okay, then," he replies, drawing her inside and shutting the door softly. He steps towards her, dipping his head down to her level. "If you're sure," he whispers across her lips._

_"I'm sure," Lexie replies, her body arching up to meet his as she twists the ring off her finger. "I've always been sure." She lets the discarded band fall to the floor, where it's forgotten in seconds as he draws her deeper into the apartment._

_. . ._

During that single night, a hundred different firsts happened to Mark and Lexie. They were both experiencing such loss and gain simultaneously that it was impossible to pull the two sensations apart. All Mark knew was that he was losing her to someone else, and all Lexie tried to do was prove him wrong.

With every touch, every word, and every kiss, Lexie tried to show him that he was the one she was truly in love with, even if a flimsy piece of paper and a church full of witnesses said different. Every time she kissed him, every time their bodies met, she tried to make it clear that there was a reason she'd showed up on his doorstep. She could only hope he would grasp it.

Mark, on the other hand, was trying desperately to hold onto her. He knew now that their time really was slipping away—how many more visits like this would occur until she finally left him behind and went with the better guy? Mark didn't want to waste a thought on it. Not while she was here, in his arms, telling him she loved him. So to lengthen the night, he said the same to her. Each time she touched him, he'd hold her close and fail to let go. Each time she kissed him, he'd kiss her back until they were both literally breathless. Each time she spoke, he would hug her to him, making sure her words went directly in one ear and never left through the other.

Mark had never held Lexie closer to him before this night, for he had never wished to be as close as humanly possible to her. He had never made love to her as sweetly or as gently as he did that night, nor did he do so without such shaking fingers and ragged breathing. She had tried to calm him down, to assure him that she was there with him, but there was nothing she could do to help him. Because she wasn't there with him, not really, and she would never be.

The process of not registering that one small fact took all of his willpower and then some. All he wanted to do was live in the here and now, and not give a damn about his blackened future.

Throughout that seemingly endless span of hours, Lexie lost count of how many times he'd told her he loved her; she lost count of how many times she herself responded with a tearful repetition of his own words.

During that night, they loved each other. Truly, they did. During that night, there was no one else and nothing else, just a pair of people and a long-gone yet still hoped-for lifetime together. Neither Mark nor Lexie had ever felt more connected with another person—or each other—before or after that night. That quiet evening in April always hung above all the others, bittersweet to the highest degree.

. . .

Lexie had gone home, early that spring morning, crying so heavily she broke her cardinal rule—waking up Jackson. He'd asked her, scared and worried, what was wrong—why was she out so late, where had she been, and what had happened. Lexie had lied, naturally, and said there were problems with her family. And Jackson had accepted that and comforted her through an endless stream of tears. Family was a topic they never touched, for Jackson always assumed she had the same relationship with her father that Meredith did—the same relationship he had with his own family. He thought it best to steer clear.

Mark had cried as well, though there had been no one there to ask him what was wrong or to try and slow the flow of his tears. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone there. Well, he _could_ think of one person he wanted, if he was being honest with himself, but thinking about her simply made his throat constrict painfully. He didn't like to show weakness, especially concerning something he had no power over. Some_one_ he had no power over. So, Mark had cried alone, and, eventually, when he managed to pull himself together, forgot the experience altogether. He pushed it from his mind just like he believed she'd pushed him from her mind and he moved on. He got back on his feet and braced himself for his next fall, for he knew there was always one coming while he lived in this precarious half-life he both hated and loved.

And he wasn't wrong. Just a couple weeks after Mark and Lexie had shared one of the most indescribable nights of their life, she moved away to make a new life with her husband. She had essentially left him behind, but she only did so because she had no way to bring him with her. Desperate, Lexie had even inquired at OHSU, the hospital and university that was her new workplace, if there were any other positions available within the Plastics or ENT departments. She knew the insanity of her wishes, but still it didn't stop her. If at all humanly possible, she wanted Mark as close as he could be. But, of course, there were no positions. In a major metropolitan hospital, with thousands of employees, she and Jackson were both lucky to even get jobs.

. . .

Mark didn't speak to anyone for weeks. In a stroke of what he unwillingly called luck, he had lost his most important patient the same week he'd lost the most important person in his life. So at least there was an explanation in plain sight for Derek and everyone else to see. No need to dig beneath the surface of concerned surgeon, Dr. Mark Sloan.

When he managed to think about something besides her, Mark felt genuine gratitude for this. Of course he felt awful about losing his patient, but somehow the alternative seemed even worse… If there had been nothing to distract Derek and Meredith, he was sure they would catch on. He was sure they would notice how he slept less than four hours a night for over a week since she'd left for Portland. He was sure they would be able to see the sadness in his eyes and attribute it to the loss of an ex-girlfriend. He was sure they would be able to tell.

So, for the first time in his life, Mark Sloan was happy someone died under his watch. It gave him the excuse to die himself.

. . .

For Lexie, the opposite was happening. While he lost sight of her more and more everyday, Lexie constantly saw him hiding in the edge of her vision. A doctor here, a patient there—it seemed like everyone resembled Mark when, in reality, Lexie was sure they looked nothing like him. _Desperate times call for hallucinations, _Lexie had thought bitterly.

For her, he was never as far away as he was in reality. Any time she let her mind wander, he was always there. Anytime she lay awake during the night, unable to get to sleep because her midnight excursions had ruined her sleeping schedule, he was there. And anytime she thought of the person she loved, he was there, standing alone, with no runner-ups.

You can't have more than one true love, after all.

. . .

_"Did you ever think of being anything besides a doctor?" Lexie asks, her head resting on his shoulder, late one winter night._

_"Oh yeah," Mark replies, stroking the skin of her hand with his thumb. He kicks off his shoes, propping his socked feet up on the footrest in front of them. "I wanted to be a firefighter when I was ten."_

_Lexie laughs, turning her face into the collar of his shirt to muffle the sound. She's grinning when he can see her expression again. "Oh, you would have looked good in one of those calendars," Lexie snorts._

_"Hey, I could have made it happen," Mark tells her. "I'm a big, strong guy."_

_"Oh, yes," Lexie replies gruffly. "Very big. Very strong."_

_"Are you mocking me?" Mark grins, twisting his head to get a good look at her._

_"Nope," Lexie answers, giggling._

_"I'm telling you, it could happen."_

_"Sure it could," Lexie smiles._

_"I'm telling you," Mark repeats. "One of these days, you'll be caught in a fire, only to be saved by _me_." He grins. "And then you'll ask me, all surprised, 'Mark, when did you become a fireman?' And I'll say, 'I've always been one. It's my secret passion'."_

_"Is it?" Lexie grins, tilting her head from its resting place atop his dark sweater to get a good look at him. Mark nods, but there isn't a smile on his face when he meets her eyes._

_"One of many," he replies softly, staring into her eyes._

. . .

As the years went by, and as their time together became less frequent and more precious, they began having sex less and less. …Until, eventually, they stopped having it altogether. After she moved away, they both thought that they'd go crazy without the touch of the other on a regular basis—but the opposite happened.

Instead of wishing everyday that he could feel her skin against his, instead of hoping everyday that he would fly out and meet her in one of the hospital's on-call rooms…Mark and Lexie simply savored the shorter and shorter times they were able to have together by acting like they _were_together. They sat together, ate together, talked together, laughed together—they acted like a bona fide couple. Except for one simple, yet immensely powerful fact:

They were not a couple.

They were not together as boyfriend and girlfriend or husband and wife. They were even no longer together as adulterer and adulteress—in the sexual sense, at least.

Mark and Lexie held no claim to each other except what they felt in their hearts, which, of course, would not be enough to convince anyone. It wouldn't convince their coworkers, their friends, or, god forbid, their families. It wouldn't convince Jackson, Meredith, or Derek. Their feelings for each other couldn't even make a big enough argument to convince _themselves _that they belonged together, so why should they try to convince anyone else?

They had each other, for however brief a time, and for now, that was enough.

. . .

_Author's Note: I'm sorry that was short and filled with narration. I know, annoying. But I'm just setting up the background information here, the real stuff (dialogue, etc) will come soon. Thank you for reading and I hope you come back. (Oh, and don't forget to review please! They make my day and I love hearing what you guys think!)_

_PS: A huge thank-you to the wonderful Paige on tumblr for giving me the song that worked as inspiration for the title of this fic. Seriously, if she hadn't intervened, this thing wouldn't be published for days. ;)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

_Author's Note: Now that we're back to the present, I wanted to let you guys know that this chapter is set in the beginning of November, just so you have some sense of time. :) I hope you like it!_

"So how's Portland?" Derek asks, looking across the table to Jackson as he sets his lunch down. "You guys get good Plastics cases up there?"

"They're okay," Jackson smiles. "I'm sure they're not as good as the cases down here, though."

"Oh, yeah, all the good ones come to me," Mark tells him, forcing a smirk onto his face. If it was anyone but Avery, he wouldn't have to bother making himself brag… But even being around the guy puts Mark on edge, throws him off his game. He's just thankful they don't have to operate together anymore.

"I'm sure they do," Jackson replies easily. "Which is why I did an arm transplant a few weeks back."

"_What?_" Derek and Mark ask at the same time.

"Yeah," Jackson grins. "It was on one of Lexie's kids, actually. Her name's Lauren Elder."

"Really?" Derek asks, intrigued. "I wouldn't think your guys' cases would cross over…"

"They don't usually. But it was a nice change of pace, seeing her at work everyday."

"Kind of like you were back in Seattle, right?" Derek asks.

"Yeah," he laughs. "Except whenever we're in Seattle, she's always running off with Robbins or visiting Molly; I never see her." Mark looks down, knowing that if he looked Avery in the face he'd probably blurt out everything. "But, you know, it's not a conference she needs to go to, so I don't blame her. Plastics can be boring."

"Oh, no way," Mark replies as Jackson smirks at him. "How can you say it's boring when you've attached someone's arm? Until you get to faces, Avery, arms are the big leagues."

"Okay, okay," Jackson laughs. "It is pretty interesting. I mean, obviously, I find it interesting. But she doesn't, and that's fine." He shrugs. "It's not her specialty."

Mark opens his mouth to dispute the other man's claim, but quickly realizes that would only get him into trouble. Considering his position in life, it really wouldn't benefit anyone to mention that the wife of the man sitting across from him had shown up at his hotel room one night and stripped off her clothes just because of how _interesting_ she found plastic surgery.

Not to mention the fact that she was still showing up.

No, that wouldn't help him at all.

. . .

Mark is running through his presentation one last time before going to bed when he hears the locks on his front door turn. He whips his head towards the noise, wondering if he should grab some sort of weapon, before someone very familiar steps through the door.

"Hi," Lexie whispers, turning to lock the door behind her. Mark can't help himself; a smile spreads over his face just at the sight of her.

"What are you doing h—" Mark asks, walking around the couch to greet her.

"The conference," she explains. "I'm sure you're going too."

"Uh, yeah," he replies, pointing over his shoulder to his laptop. "I was just going over… Yeah, I am." Mark walks up to her, not being able to hide a smile. "You came with?"

Lexie shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "How could I not?" She smiles, putting a hand on his arm.

"Welcome back," Mark tells her, bending down to kiss her softly.

"Thank you," Lexie replies against his lips, hoping her words aren't lost as he draws her closer with an arm hooking around her waist.

"Mm," Mark murmurs against her lips. "Of course."

Lexie pulls back, brushing the sides of his face lightly with her thumbs. "No, really," she whispers against his mouth, lifting her gaze from his lips to his eyes. "Thank you."

"Of course," he repeats more seriously this time, stepping back and heading towards the kitchen. "Do you want some food?" He calls over his shoulder.

"Mark, it's twelve-thirty," Lexie replies, depositing her affects on the small end table and following after him.

"Let me rephrase: do you want some desert?"

A smile spreads across Lexie's lips. "Do you have ice cream?"

"I might," he smirks, opening the freezer. He glances around inside, quickly finding what he was searching for on the bottom shelf. "Okay, Lex," he calls as he reaches down, "if I tell you I have ice cream, you have to promise me I won't have to go out and get toppings."

Lexie squints her eyes at him. "Depends what kind you have."

He shows her the box. "Vanilla."

Her face immediately sours. "Oh, vanilla? Come on, really?"

"What?" Mark replies, turning to close the freezer door. "I don't have as big a sweet tooth as you so I don't stock up on ice cream, sorry."

"Your awful taste is what you should be apologizing for, actually," Lexie corrects him, moving around the counter to grab a spoon from one of the drawers. "Not your lack of a sweet tooth." She frowns. "Vanilla sucks."

"Says the woman _already _holding a spoon in her hand."

"What?" Lexie asks, plucking the frozen carton out of his hands and opening the top. She glances down at the completely full tub. "You obviously weren't going to eat it," she notes with a raised eyebrow before dunking her spoon into the ice cream without even a moment's hesitation.

"That doesn't mean I want you rooting around in my food," Mark replies. "Use a bowl, Lex. You're like a vulture!"

Lexie pouts, bringing the spoon to her mouth. "That was mean."  
>"Use a bowl and I might consider saying I'm sorry," he replies, ushering her towards the other end of the kitchen.<p>

"Fine," Lexie grumbles, turning to the cabinets on the end of the back wall. "If I _have _to use a bow… What?" She asks, having turned to glance at him only to find him standing right beside her, just inches separating them.

"I'm happy you came," Mark tells her softly, placing a hand on her lower back.

"Me too," Lexie replies, her voice just as hushed. Before she can wonder where that moment came from, Mark has pulled back and grabbed his own spoon, dipping it into the ice cream.

"Even if you do eat ice cream out of the container," he adds, depositing the cool creaminess onto his tongue.

"Ha!" Lexie replies, pointing her spoon at him before also digging in, "I knew you wouldn't make me use a bowl."

"It's just cause I don't want to clean up," Mark excuses, leading the way to the couch.

"Uh-huh," Lexie replies doubtfully. "I'm sure it is."

"Okay, okay, I lied," Mark says as he plops himself down on the cushions. Lexie joins him, balancing the ice cream between their waists. "It's just cause I like you so much."

Lexie tilts her forehead at him, sucking the ice cream off her spoon while rolling her eyes. "Yes, that's the reason, I'm sure."

"Oh, I see how it is," Mark smirks, grabbing another spoonful of vanilla. He dangles it between his fingers, turning it side to side as it begins to melt in the warm air. He tips it towards her, and Lexie giggles, taking a bite of the offered ice cream. "It's because I love you," he says, looking down and depositing the spoon back in the container as Lexie swallows the bite of desert whole. She winces slightly as the cool half-liquid half-solid substance freezes her throat on its way down.

Lexie wonders why these simple words, spoken just by him, can have such a surprising effect on her. It isn't as if she's never heard them before, it isn't as if he's never uttered them before. It's strange after so many years, but still, there was just something about him that always surprised her, something about how he spoke to her that always made her take a few seconds to reply.

"I…love you too," she tells him, reaching out to hold the back of his neck, her fingers threading in between the short hairs near the base of his skull and stroking his hair.

"I know," Mark says, turning his head to look at her. He leans towards her, kissing her cheek. "I know."

"So," Lexie smiles a moment later, "do you to tell me about this presentation or what?"

"It's boring," Mark excuses. "Don't you want to talk to me about _your_ practice?"

"Eh," she shrugs, "peds isn't all that thrilling." Lexie smiles warmly at him, putting her hand on his knee. "Come on," she encourages, shifting closer so her head lies comfortable on his shoulder where she can get a good look at him. "Tell whose lives you've been changing."

. . .

"—got married in April, right?"

"What?" Mark asks, jerking his head as he comes out of his reverie. Jackson and the man who Mark assumed had asked the question that broke him away from his thoughts are both standing in front of him, giving their fellow plastic surgeon odd looks.

"Uh, yeah," Jackson replies, turning back to the other man. "It'll…Wow, it'll be seven years in April."

"That's great," the man smiles, shaking Jackson's hand as he gets ready to take his leave. He turns to Mark before he goes. "I found your talk very interesting by the way, and very informative. It definitely shed some light on transplanting techniques."

"Thanks," Mark replies. "I was going over it in my head, just now, making sure I didn't leave anything out," he lies quickly. "I think I was alright."

"You were fine," the other surgeon assures him before walking away. Mark clears his throat, taking a sip of his drink before forcing himself to be polite to the man standing next to him.

"So… So seven years," Mark notes. "That's a—long time."

"Yeah," Jackson replies, an involuntary smile lighting up his face. "I, uh, I hadn't thought about it before, but geez, it's been a while."

"Congratulations," Mark offers, wishing he had downed ten scotches instead of two. That small of an amount of liquor wasn't able to adequately prepare him for conversations like these.

"It's not April yet," Avery warns him with a smile.

"Still." Mark finishes the rest of his drink in one swallow while walking to the nearby open bar to get another one. "So things are…good…with you guys?"

"Better than," Jackson replies, smiling. "I love her, you know?" He clears his throat softly. "After—after this, actually, I was going to…ask her something."

"What else is there to ask her? You're already married," Mark says, happy to let the alcohol flowing through his body dim his sense of decorum. He's sure his voice came out horribly embittered, but right now, he just can't bring himself to care.

"I, uh, was going to see if she wanted to start a family," Jackson replies, brushing off the other man's strange tone of voice. "You know, kids."

"Congratulations," Mark reiterates, lifting his drink to toast the man who's rightfully stealing away what should be his life. Instead of taking a solitary sip as is customary, though, he swallows the serving whole, letting the liquid to burn through his esophagus as he watches another part of his life fall away, forcing himself to smile as it happens.

"Again," Jackson smiles, turning away, "we're not there yet."

"Avery," Mark calls, already feeling slightly unsteady even as he's standing still. It takes him a moment to focus on the other surgeon. "You're there," Mark tells him.

"What makes you say that?"

Mark shrugs. "It's been almost seven years. You're married to her. You're _together_." He sighs. "If anyone's there, trust me, _you're_ there."

"Okay," Jackson smiles before glancing at the empty glass in Mark's hand. "Do me a favor, would you? Make that your last drink. You look like you're about to fall over." He puts a hand on his former mentor's shoulder, looking him in the eye. "The presentation went well and you're one of the top plastic surgeons in the country." Jackson laughs slightly. "There's nothing left to torture yourself over."

. . .

_I heard_

_That you're settled down_

_That you've found a guy and you're_

_Married now._

_I heard that your dreams came true_

_Guess he gave you things_

_I didn't give to you_

_. . ._

_Nothing compares, no worries or cares_

_Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made_

_Who would have known how bittersweet _

_this…would…taste?_

_..._

Author's Note: Forgive me for changing the lyrics slightly; I just wanted them to fit. :) Please review and tell me what you think. I'll update soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

"Hi," Lexie smiles, drawing out the word as she leans against his apartment door. "How'd your presentation go?"

Mark squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose and hoping when he opens them, she'll disappear. She doesn't. _So I'll have to _make _her disappear, _Mark thinks tiredly as he steps off the elevator. _Great. _

"You should go," he grunts, walking around her and fumbling to fit his key into the lock.

"What?" Lexie asks, amused. "No one saw me."

"You should go, Lex," he repeats, opening the door. He sighs. How many times had he wished that she would show up outside his apartment just like this? How many times had he wished he would come home from work, and see her standing here? Too many to count. But now is the worst time to make those wishes come true. He slips inside, turning around to face her and put an arm to block her passage into the apartment. "I don't want to see you."

"What are you talking about?" Lexie whispers, holding the door he'd tried to shut in her face open. The joking smile is beginning to falter on her face, yet she hopes he'll contradict himself before it really has a chance to fall away.

Mark mutters something too low for her to hear, giving up trying to block her out and instead heading inside without bothering to check if she's following. He already knows she is.

"This—us—isn't right," he calls, walking into the apartment. He takes off his jacket, tossing it to the couch but missing by a good five feet. "And I—I can't do it anymore."

"Where is this coming from?" Lexie asks, following him inside. She puts her hand on his arm, turning him towards her. "Hey, Mark, who were you talking to?"

"I wasssn't talking to anyone," Mark excuses, half-slurring the words as he pulls away from her touch.

"You must've been talking to someone," Lexie counters. "Or else you wouldn't want to leave me like this. You wouldn't want to leave me at all." She pauses, searching his eyes for an answer. "Was it Derek?" She asks, studying him. He sets his jaw, staring right back at her. "What did Derek say to you, Mark?"

"Derek didn't say anything. It wasn't him."

"Then who?"

Mark just stares at her.

"Who was it, Mark?"

"Avery," he replies after a moment, looking her right in the eye. "Your _husband_."

"What did he say to you?" Lexie whispers, trying desperately not to let her voice shake. "What did he tell you?"

"Oh, don't look so worried," Mark tells her with a mocking grin. "He only had good things to say about you."

"What did he tell you, Mark?" Lexie asks again, her voice stronger now.

"He told me how happy he was to be married to you. How much he loved you." Mark sucks in a breath of air, and feels it catch in his throat as he tries to utter the next few words. "How much he…wanted to start a family with you. Wanted kids."

"Oh, Mark…"

"I—I'm not doing what I did to Derek and Addison again, Lex," he says, shaking his head. "I'm—I'm done with that now," he tells her, holding out an open hand between them to stop her. "So I…have to be done with you too."

Lexie feels as she'd been punched in the stomach at his words, and she stumbles backwards at his words as if he really had hit her. "You—you can't," she chokes. "You can't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," Mark replies, feeling oddly calm. "I _couldn't _leave you, because we _aren't together."_

"We are—"

"We aren't, Lexie, not really. And you know that. We're just pretending. And that's—that's…" He trails off, looking away before turning back with a smile Lexie can clearly see is fake. "And that's okay. It's fine—_for us_. But he wants a family with you and I can't…" He shakes his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "We have to stop, okay? It isn't right. You're married, he's your husband, just… Just go back to him."

"We aren't doing anything wrong!"

"Oh, _right_," Mark laughs, throwing his head back in an exaggerated manner. "Right, we sure aren't doing anything _wrong_, are we?"

"You don't understand," Lexie tries.

"_I _don't understand?" Mark cuts in, crossing his arms with a comically drunken grin. "Right, I don't understand. Lex, it's _you _who doesn't understand."

"We aren't sleeping together," Lexie protests.

Mark laughs at this. "Just because we aren't sleeping together doesn't make this okay. You should know by now, Lex, that there's more than one way to cheat on someone." He stares at her hard in the eyes, the joking tone gone from his voice. "Just because you tell me you love me—as true as it might be—_that _doesn't make this okay. Nothing makes this okay. You're married. And it's not to me. So you have to go back."

"But I—I need this," Lexie says desperately, stepping forward. "I need _you_."

"Yeah," Mark replies, scratching the back of his head and turning away. "Well, he needs you too."

"So?" Lexie counters.

"So?" Mark repeats harshly. "_So,_ you're married. _So, _you have obligations."

"Screw obligations, I want—"

"—Me?" Mark asks, turning back with a smile. She exhales softly, looking up at him, but makes no move to correct his assumption. "Well, he wants _you_. And he has a bigger say in this twisted relationship than I do. He has a bigger stake in this."

"A bigger stake in _what_?"

"Life!" Mark replies loudly. "He has a bigger stake because he has _you_."

"You have me too," Lexie replies quietly.

"No." Mark's voice is firm. "No, I don't have you. Not like he does. You may be here with me, but you're not _mine_." Lexie can see the torment voicing those obvious truths causes him even though she's sure he's trying his best to hide it. "You'll never be mine. You're his, and you will always be his."

"But I…"

"Just go back to him Lex," Mark sighs. "You have someone you owe things to and it sure as hell isn't me. Go back to him."

"I can't," Lexie admits. Mark closes his eyes, willing himself not to give into the pain in her voice.

"Yes, you can. You'll see." He smiles, leaning down towards her as if speaking to a small child, and the look of what seems to be genuine concern on his face makes Lexie want to be sick. "It's not so hard to leave me behind. Not when someone else loves you."

"But he—he doesn't love me," Lexie argues him, trying anything to change his mind. "Not like you do!"

"You think I don't _know_ that already?" Mark asks loudly. He exhales audibly, closing his eyes and pressing his fist against his forehead. Suddenly, drinking as much as he had after the conference did _not _seem like a good idea.

"Mark," Lexie whispers, rushing towards him.

"No," he tells her, putting up a hand to stop her. "Don't. You—just…You just go, okay? This would be easier if you left."

"But I don't want to," Lexie protests. "I can't…"

"Just let me go, Lex." Mark sighs, his voice sounding as if he hasn't slept in days. His eyes look the same when they rise to meet her desperate gaze. "I've tried so hard to let you go and you aren't letting me. You've never let me. But please, for the love of _god_, do this _one thing _for me. Just this one thing."

Lexie opens her mouth to speak, but she can't find the right words.

"Please, Lex," Mark whispers, not knowing how many more time he can ask her to leave him without calling it all off. It's getting physically harder each time he has to open his mouth. "Just go and leave me behind. For once, please move on."

"Mark, I…"

"Lex, Jesus, will you _listen to me _for once in your life?" Mark cuts in, his voice rising with impatience. He knows if he doesn't make her go now, he'll never be able to again. "Just go," he calls, throwing an arm out towards the door. "Walk away, go back to Meredith's, go back to Portland, go back to the husband who _loves you_, have five kids with him, and_ don't show up at my door anymore." _He ticks the instructions off on his fingers."Don't call me, don't text me, don't ask about me. Don't tag along at conferences to see me, don't make excuses to consult with Robbins. Forget about me and—_Just. Go._"

Lexie swallows, feeling the bottoms of her eyelids fill at his words. She takes a shaky breath before speaking, and when she does, she can't bear to look him in the eye. "Just because you tell me not to see you or communicate with you doesn't mean I'll forget you," Lexie whispers, feeling her heart break for the hundredth time within his hands. "I couldn't forget you. And it…It doesn't mean I won't think about you."

"Then at least I have one comfort," Mark replies coldly, turning his head away. It's time for her to go, and he knows if he watches her leave, he'll never actually be able to _let _her go. And he needs to. He can't keep this charade up anymore, no matter how much it hurts him to end it.

"Right, I forgot," Lexie replies, voice shaking. "_You're_ the one who needs comforting."

"Oh, don't act like you're on your own," Mark snaps, breaking his own rule and turning to face her in his anger. "No need to throw yourself a pity party when you've got a husband and a family. What about me? What do I have?"

"You could have _me_," Lexie replies, bringing a hand to her chest and walking back towards him. "If you weren't so damn insistent on ruining this, you could have _me_!"

"Ruining this?" Mark asks with a laugh. "Ruining _what_? Your _affair_? Sure, because this means so much to you. You really care for me, don't you? That's why you sneak off in the middle of the night to come see me."

"_Mark_," Lexie chokes out, not knowing what else to say. His words cut her too deeply, in areas of their lives that should never be touched or questioned, and she has no response for his attacks.

"Lex," Mark groans, covering his eyes with a hand as he points to the door. "Do I really have to say it again?"

Lexie bites the inside of her lip, looking away as she quickly swipes at her cheeks. "Right," she tells him, moving to the door. "I'm telling you right now you're going to regret this. And when you do—"

"What?" Mark cuts in knowingly, removing his hand to look at her. "When I do, you'll be long gone? When I do it'll be _too late_? Please," Mark scoffs. "Don't do _me _a disservice by lying to my face. Save that for your husband. And don't kid yourself," he adds. "We both know you'll be back."

"Yeah, I guess we'll see who shows at Meredith's house just as the planes get in," Lexie snaps, slamming the door behind her. Mark stares at the blue exit, letting the sound reverberate within his skull. It seems to get louder and louder by the second. He smiles slightly in his almost-delirium, proud for a moment that he's actually done it. He's actually ended it, called it quits, sent her off. He'd done the _right thing. _Mark almost laughs aloud at the realization.

…But then the pain of losing her—of _forcing_ her away—hits him all at once at there's little he can do in his inebriated state except sink from his feet to the floor, holding his throbbing head in his hands. He whispers her name, over and over, as if trying to call her back to him, but of course there's no answer.

. . .

"Hey," Jackson smiles as Lexie walks into the small bedroom.

"Hi," Lexie sighs, wishing for what wouldn't be the first time that she had an empty bed to come home to.

"So, the conference went really well," Jackson starts eagerly, ignoring her obvious displeasure in his rush to get the words out. "And I was thinking that there's, um, there's something I wanted to talk to you about—"

"Jackson," Lexie sighs again, feeling as if she doesn't have the willpower to go through an entire conversation with him. "Can we talk tomorrow?"

"Can we… Oh, uh, right, yeah, sure," he replies quickly.

"Thank you," Lexie exhales softly, bending down to get a pair of pajamas out of her suitcase.

"Are you alright?" He asks while watching her stand still by the dresser as one of her hands rubs her temple.

"No, I'm fine," Lexie replies, turning around and flashing him what she hopes is a convincing smile. "I just… I have a bad headache. I'm sorry, can we just go to bed?"

"Yeah, of course," Jackson agrees, moving the case file he'd been examining off the bed. Lexie quickly changes, settling onto the right side of the bed. Jackson joins her, bringing his body to lie next to hers. He's about to speak when she rolls over, turning her back to him and sniffing slightly.

"You…You sure you're okay, Lex?" Jackson asks hesitantly, his hand resting on her hip.

"I'm—fine," Lexie manages, feeling her throat grow sore with all the lies she's told him as she tries desperately to forget everything that had occurred in the last hour.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong?" Jackson presses. His concerned voice makes her freeze—_I could do it_, she thinks, and that single thought alone almost barrels her over with the possibilities. _I could really tell him. _Lexie draws a breath, convinced she's about to spend the next couple of hours explaining where she's _really _been going every night they stay at Meredith's when she realizes: it won't do any good. Making Jackson feel miserable won't make Mark feel miserable. Hurting Jackson won't hurt Mark, and he's the one she wants to injure the most anyway.

_And there's a way_, she thinks, almost smiling as the idea takes root in her brain. _There's a way to hurt him without hurting Jackson. By actually doing what he _wants_._

Kids.

She could do what Mark said and what Jackson was going to say if she'd give him the chance: she could have kids. She could go back to Portland, let Jackson pitch the idea to her, and then they'd start trying. They'd have one, two, three… Hell, maybe she really would end up having five kids.

Five kids. Boys and girls, all running around…

But even the thought of it, raising a couple boys and girls, kills her inside. Tears a part of her away. It's not that Lexie necessarily doesn't want kids, it's the simple fact that she doesn't want them with her husband. She doesn't want them with Mark, either, but having kids with Jackson seems so much worse. Having children—real, live, breathing children—would tie her to him in a way so much more serious, so much more tangible, than a wedding ring or a marriage certificate. It would bind them for life, whether they liked it or not.

And Lexie definitely didn't like it.

Lexie sighs. _So kids are out._

"Lex?" Jackson asks again, anxious this time. His voice makes her jump slightly; she'd almost forgotten he was there. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Yes," she whispers a moment, shifting under the covers and bringing a hand to wipe the tear from her cheek. "Yes," she lies for what must be the thousandth time, "I'd tell you if something was wrong."

. . .

_These twisted games we're playing…_

_We're strange allies_

_With warring hearts_

_What a wild-eyed beast you be._

_The Space Between_

_The wicked lies we tell_

_And hope to keep safe from the pain_

_But will I hold you again?_

_Will I hold…_

_. . ._

_Author's Note: Hey! So did I make you feel bad for two adulterers? Or do you still pity Jackson? ;) Please review and tell me what you think of the chapter._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

_Author's Note: Thank you guys for the reviews! Please keep 'em coming!_

. . .

"Hey, have you talked to Mark?" Jackson asks, pulling on a shirt the next morning.

"What?" Lexie's head whips around, half-wearing pajamas, half-naked. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Easy," Jackson says with a smile. "I was just wondering if he made it home alive last night."

"From the conference? Why wouldn't he have?"

"He was drinking a lot," Jackson replies with a frown.

"Did something happen?" Lexie asks quietly, averting her eyes as she slips on a pair of jeans.

"No, I don't think so. I mean, his presentation and everything went well. Actually, I might take some of his advice when we look at Lauren's arm again, when we get back home…" Jackson shakes his head. "Sorry. Anyway. No, I don't think anything happened. But I was going to have lunch with Derek before we left, so maybe I can ask him."

. . .

Upon waking up the next morning, Mark immediately regretted everything he'd consumed at the conference—and everything that had occurred afterward because of that. It had been stupid of him to drink so much in the first place, but seeing as he had been stuck in the same room and conversation with a man his wished with all his heart had never existed, it wasn't a surprise that he had drowned his feelings in alcohol. That's what everyone did, though, wasn't it, when things got too hard? It's always better to hide than face reality—he'd been doing it for eight years.

And as proud as he had been last night—for just a split second, that is—he regretted everything he'd said with a fierce longing for repentance. All he wanted was to have things the way they used to be. All he wanted was her.

But that wasn't possible now, and, as he was quickly realizing, might never be possible. Through the pain of his splitting headache, Mark was able to focus on one fact: she was never coming back.

Though he had liked to taunt her last night with the fact that she'd always been the one to show up at his door, he knew that times had quickly changed. All the anger she'd left with last night would not quickly leave her mind or heart, and it would stay directed at him. He just hoped she wouldn't act as rashly as he had. He just hoped the next time he might see her, she wouldn't be pregnant.

And that's all he wanted to do, really: see her.

He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to explain, he just wanted to see her. Words were useless because the second their eyes met he knew she'd be able to see the regret. She'd be able to see how much he wanted to take back everything he'd said, he knew that. All of this could be fixed if he only saw her, just once before she left.

. . .

"Hey, Dr. Grey!" Arizona calls, stunning her former student with a blindingly white smile.

"Hi, Dr. Robbins," Lexie smiles, falling—oddly grateful—into the blonde's hug. _It seems any form of comfort is welcome, _Lexie thinks sadly. "How have you been?"

"I've been great!"

"And Dr. Torres? Sofia?"

"Oh, they're awesome," Arizona replies, leading the other woman down the hallway. "Sofia's in second grade, you know."

"Aw," Lexie coos, managing an appropriate smile. "She's so old now!"

"I _know_," Arizona agrees. Her voice turns soft. "Sometimes it feels like she was just a tiny baby in an incubator only yesterday."

Lexie puts a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "She's fine," Lexie assures her.

"No, no, I know. It just—you know, sometimes you remember how much you could have lost."

"You didn't lose anything," Lexie reminds her. "Well, except me," she adds lightly.

"Yeah!" Arizona calls, quickly returning to her former exuberance. "When _are _you moving back here by the way? I have more than enough patients, I could _really _use you around here!" Lexie just laughs as they continue down the hallway. "And I'm sure Mark would _love _to have Avery back," she adds without a touch of sarcasm. "He's got a good amount of work too, you know."

. . .

"Hey, do you know what's going on with Mark?"

Derek Shepherd glances over at the man beside him as he moves down the lunch line. "With Mark…" He repeats, waiting for clarification. "Thank you," he tells the cashier as they pay for their food.

"He was acting pretty weird at the conference last night," Jackson elaborates as they sit down at a nearby table. Derek takes a bite of his sandwich, thinking.

"Acting weird, as in…?"

"As in drinking," Avery replies. "And just general—Oh, hey, Callie."

"Hello," the orthopedic surgeon replies brightly. "Mind if I join you? Arizona's in surgery and there isn't anyone else around…" She looks around at the almost-deserted tables.

"Yeah, sure," Derek replies after glancing quickly to Avery, who nods his assent. "Sit down."

"Thanks," Callie replies, flashing a grateful smile. "Eating lunch alone sucks," she mutters, pulling up a chair. "So, what's up? This is your last day, right, Jackson?"

"Yeah, we're heading home in a couple hours. My wife's probably in on your wife's surgery, actually."

"Yay, peds!" Callie says with fake cheer before sobering. "Boring," she says darkly before taking a sip of her drink. "So what were you guys talking about?"

Jackson smiles at her antics before answering. "We were discussing the conference I was just at," he tells her.

"Oh, yeah? How'd it go?"

"Good. I didn't speak, but it was interesting."

Callie furrows her eyebrows. "Didn't Mark have some big presentation? I should probably have asked him how it went…"

"Yeah, if you can find him," Jackson remarks.

"And why wouldn't I be able to find him?"

"Well, he was acting pretty weird after his talk. Drinking kind of heavily, considering where we were. I was talking about maybe having kids—"

"Aw," Callie interrupts, her face lighting up. Avery smiles quickly at her.

"Yeah, I know. Well, I was talking about having kids and he got this look on his face like someone had died and—Oh, _shit_. Shit, am I not supposed to mention kids because of Sofia? Are things not—okay with you guys?"

Callie shakes her head. "No, no, things are fine. It's like we have full custody but he sees her pretty much whenever he wants. He's cool with it." Callie looks to the side, trying to remember. "It was his idea, actually."

Jackson frowns. "Well, then that doesn't make any sense. If I was discussing kids and he's fine with kids, I don't get why he would get all weird on me…"

"Maybe he was just uncomfortable with the situation," Derek offers.

"What do you mean? The confe—"

"Well, that isn't a surprise," Callie mutters to herself, taking a fork to her pasta. When she looks back up a few seconds later, both Derek and Avery are staring directly at her. She narrows her eyes at Derek, who is mouthing the word '_Don't_' with exaggerated silent enunciation. Avery, sitting on her other side, just looks confused. By the time Callie realizes what hole she's fallen into, it's already too late.

"What do you mean, that isn't a surprise?" Jackson asks.

"Well," Callie begins carefully, glancing to the neurosurgeon but knowing he won't help her. "You know he and Lexie were…"

"Yes, of course I know that," he replies quickly.

"So it would make sense that he was a little reticent to discuss the topic with you?"

"Well…Yeah, I guess." Jackson crosses his arms. "They broke up like eight years ago, though. I mean, I loved Mallory Jacobs in the ninth grade, but that doesn't mean I'd get wasted at the possibility of her having children with someone else…" He trails off, quickly realizing what's between the lines. He sits back, looking to the side in confusion. "Wait, you aren't saying… No, you don't think it's possible that he isn't…isn't over her, do you?"

"You can never tell with Mark."

"It's been _years_, Callie."

She shrugs. "He just…" Callie pauses, choosing her words carefully and looking the other surgeon in the eye. "Let's just say not much has changed since you guys left. He's still…who he was."

Jackson nods, taking this in. "So it's her?" He asks quietly after a moment. "Hasn't he…hasn't he dated anyone since her?"

Callie shrugs again. "I don't know. He's been pretty quiet."

"Wow," Jackson mutters, glancing behind his shoulder even though Mark's nowhere to be seen. "She really…meant a lot to him, huh?"

"I guess so."

"Kind of sad she didn't feel the same," Jackson adds, turning back to his sandwich, unaware of the neurosurgeon following his every move. He glances to Callie as well, but she's turned back to her lunch to. His forehead creases, examining the carefree way the two of them—both who should see what's happening between the lines here but obviously don't—continue on as if what they were just discussing meant nothing.

_How can they not see what's happening here?_

. . .

He finally spots her later that afternoon as he was walking through the surgical hallway. Lexie's just coming out of surgery with Arizona, a smile on her face. And even though Mark still feels just as awful as he had that morning, a smile curves up the sides of his lips as well. But then Avery is heading their way, and Mark quickly ducks down a side hall before he's seen.

_Running from the husband, _he thinks, grinding his teeth, _what a pansy move._

But even his own self-bullying can't force him to go back. Even if it means seeing her once before he goes, maybe touching her or hugging her… _No, _he thinks firmly, knowing those outcomes are impossible. _Nothing like that is happening. She'd probably just glare at you and refuse to even say goodbye._

As he traverses from hallway to hallway, Mark wonders when it will be safe to head back. He decides the quicker he does it, the sooner he can know if she's really gone—and therefore relax. Or try to, at least. So he heads across the catwalk, moving from the wing holding the Chief's office to the surgical floors when a voice stops him. He skids a halt, feeling his pulse pick up and the back of his neck prickle. He can hear her speaking, somewhere below him to, he realizes with relief, Meredith. She's thanking her sister for putting them up and wishing Derek luck on his surgery later this evening.

He turns in the direction of the ORs when he hears their voice fade away, but one glance back does him in. He looks over his shoulder, a reflex from all the nights that she'd come and go, but he isn't met with the usual small, secretive smile. He's met by her and her husband, grinning and leading each other towards the exit, their bags trailing behind them.

_Well, you got your wish, _Mark thinks to himself, watching them walk through the door and take each other's hand. _You got to see her. Nothing more, nothing less._

. . .

"You know," Jackson begins, heading through the automatic doors, "I was talking to Derek and Callie today…"

"Oh, yeah?" Lexie asks, moving to the back of the taxi they'd called for.

"And Callie had some interesting things to say." He glances to her as he passes the suitcases to the cab driver, who loads them into the trunk. "About Mark."

"What about him?"

"She thinks he's in love with you."

"What?" Lexie squawks, jumping.

"Yeah, I know," Jackson laughs, walking around to the backseat of the cab. "I thought it was pretty ridiculous too," he adds, ducking inside.

Lexie stares at him, wide-eyed, and hoping her heartbeat will slow. She carefully opens the door, settling in beside him. His casual mention of Mark's feelings for her had sent adrenaline through her veins, pumping her up for a fight… But there is no fight. Avery is still smiling at her, as oblivious as the day before.

"She…she said that?" Lexie asks hesitantly as she rearranges the features of her face into what she hopes is an appropriate representation of surprise.

"Well, not exactly," Jackson replies. "She mentioned that it seemed like he hadn't dated anyone since you two broke up—which was like a decade ago, I might add—and I drew my own conclusions from it." Avery frowns slightly. "I think he's still hung up on you."

"Yeah," Lexie whispers, not being able to process enough words to reply.

That simple fact made Lexie's heart constrict with both misery and love. The thought that he'd kept himself alone, just for her, all these years made her want to weep at the utter devotion he seemed to have for her. But the other side of her wants to cry just for the realization of how depressing that fact was: he was waiting for someone who would never come to him.

"It's kind of sad you didn't feel the same," Avery continues after a moment. Lexie's head snaps up, sure that _now _is the time that he'll make his knowledge of her affair known. _Now _is when he'll finally call her out on it. _Now _is when she'll be left by her husband after being left by… Lexie's forehead creases at the dangling thought. In all the time they've spent together, she's never known what to call him. He's always been 'Mark' to her. He's never had to have a title, until now. And what is his title? Ex-adulterer? Ex-lover? Ex-ex-boyfriend?

"Don't worry about it," Jackson smiles, misreading her harried expression and scooting across the seat towards her. "I don't pity him _that _much," he whispers, kissing her.

. . .

_Author's Note: Please review and tell me what you think!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

_Author's Note: Hi, guys! Sorry it took me a bit to update. Thank you very much for the reviews, and I hope you like this chapter!_

_. . ._

In the weeks that followed, Mark and Lexie both felt themselves sink into an almost depression-like state. It was quite similar to the way both of them felt in the days following her wedding, but somehow it was much worse. The way he had sent her away had seemed so final and, sadly, cruel, that as more and more time passed there seemed to be no way to mend the bridges between them. So instead, they focused on other aspects of their lives that could bring what they hoped (but knew would never be) and equal form of happiness.

. . .

In his own way, Mark had tried to forget about her, to imagine that the on-and-off relationship they'd shared over the past ten years hadn't occurred. To ease the pain and regret he carried with him daily, he liked to pretend she didn't exist. And for once, he was grateful that she lived and entire state away. At least that way, he wouldn't be constantly bombarded by both her and Avery's presence; the appearance of either of them would shatter his convenient illusion.

. . .

Lexie, on the other hand, threw herself into her work. She knew she wouldn't be able to forget about him, so she found other things to focus her attention on. Luckily, it wasn't hard to lose herself during the workday. It seemed like each patient she met with took up more and more time as the days went on, and some of the most cheerful of her kids had begun turning sour and disagreeable when their ailments were not being remedied fast enough. The only way to help them, of course, was to work harder, stay later, and pay more attention to her career than to her personal life.

Lexie had never been more thankful for such demanding clientele than when she arrived home from Seattle. It seemed like the toddler's she treated threw more and more temper tantrums and the teenagers she was assigned to had more and more arguments over their care.

Even Lauren Elder, the young girl whose arm Avery had transplanted on just a few months prior, was turning out to be trouble. She was one of the calmest patients Lexie had ever treated, but since her transplant, it seemed that the girl's life was going from bad to worse instead of the other way around. For years following an unfortunate accident when the young girl lost her arm, Lauren had never faltered in her chipper demeanor. She took her rehabilitation and refusal of prosthetics much better than any girl her age would, Lexie had suspected. But now, it seemed like Lauren felt the world was out to get her—starting with her arm that would not cooperate. Lauren's mother apologized time and time again for her daughter's attitude, but Lexie was happy for the angry distraction and the increasing amounts of willpower it took to handle the young girl—it meant that less time was spent think about people she shouldn't be thinking about.

. . .

As much as they would like to not think about each other, though, it was impossible to avoid each other during the holidays. Lexie wished she could ask Jackson to visit her family, but from the past six years, she'd proved that she liked to visit them on her own. For once, she felt like a complete idiot for using that seemingly fool-proof excuse. Now it afforded her no escape. And seeing as Mark asked her not to contact him, she had no way to warn him that she'd be at Meredith's for Thanksgiving dinner. Mark, of course, would show since he had no other family. She was the only one who could weasel her way out, but she'd blocked her only exit with her past lies.

. . .

Though she had arrived without warning and against his expectations, Mark had managed to avoid Lexie almost all night. They had eaten dinner in a friendly atmosphere—consisting of Meredith, Derek, Mark, Jackson, and Leixe—and there were enough people involved that the two barely had to speak to one another.

As the hands on his watch reveal that it was almost ten o'clock, Mark knew he wouldn't have to stay much longer. Meredith and Derek had put Zola to bed hours ago, and they were just now clearing the table. As Lexie insisted on helping her sister stack the dishes, Mark had escaped to the kitchen for another beer. He wasn't even thirsty, really, but the need to keep himself away from her was so strong that he was willing to follow that instinct wherever it took him. Unfortunately, it didn't take him far enough.

Mark's grabbing a beer from Meredith and Derek's refrigerator when he hears the kitchen door slide open. He closes his eyes, knowing there's only one person who would try to enter a room so quietly, and closing the fridge before turning to face her.

"Hey," he says, working off the cap to his drink while his voice shatters the silence.

"Hi," Lexie replies, taking a few hesitant steps into the room, her arms laden down with both her and Meredith's share of dishes. "If—if I knew you were in here, I, um, I would have waited, you know. We don't have to…"

"What?" Mark asks with his trademark smirk. Lexie wonders why he feels the need to mock her, but quickly comes to the conclusion that it's just a defense mechanism. _If it's designed to keep me away, he's_ _doing a fantastic job_, she thinks bitterly. "We don't have to be in the same room?" He asks, finishing her sentence. "I know I said I didn't want to talk to you, Lexie, but I didn't mean we didn't have to be civil."

"I was just saying…"

"We can be in the same room," Mark replies, offering her a small smile that had eluded so many others these past few weeks.

"Okay," she replies quietly, walking to the counter and setting down her mountain of plates and bowls.

"So…"

"So?" Lexie asks, shifting the pile so it's less precariously stacked. She looks up, her teeth dragging over her bottom lip as she stares at him.

"The, uh," he blinks, staring at her and wondering if the way she's acting is intentional or otherwise. "The kid thing," he continues, gesturing to her stomach and watching her freeze in place. "Did that ever…you know, happen?"

"Do I _look _pregnant to you?"

"No," Mark replies quickly, ducking his head from her insulted expression and wishing he hadn't chosen the first topic that came to mind. "I just…"

"No," Lexie answers after a moment. Her voice is so soft, it causes Mark to look back over, and the tenderness he sees in her gaze is far from what had been there before. _I'm not lost from you, _her eyes seem to tell him. "No, it never happened."

"Was it because of," Mark begins only to cut himself off, glancing away and clearing his throat. "Um, why not?" He tries again.

Lexie shrugs. "I don't want kids."

"So that's…it?"

"Is what it?" She asks softly.

"You're not having children with him, end of story?"

"Mark." Lexie whispers his name quietly, her voice catching slight on the last letter. He doesn't look at her, because he already knows what he'll see: longing in her eyes and pitying sympathy on her face. And he can't take that right now. He'd lied before: it's hard enough being alone in the same room with her; he won't be able to look her in the eye without doing something stupid, he's sure of it.

"I don't know," she replies finally. "As of right now, I'm not having kids. I don't want them…" Her voice trails off, and he wonders if she'd wanted to qualify that statement or not. He knows it won't do any good to ask her. It's probably just wishful thinking on his part.

But still, he can't help himself from looking over at her; his actions around her are something he hasn't been able to control for a long time. Her eyes are downcast as she leans against the kitchen table, but in that single moment, Lexie can feel his eyes on her. She can feel him staring at her, but she forces herself not to look up. She's been here before with him, and it can't be worth it anymore. It isn't _allowed _to be worth it anymore, he told her that. _So why is he looking at me like this? _Lexie thinks._ Why is _he_ pushing the boundaries _he_ set for the both of us?_

It's unfair.

And with that thought, Lexie's eyes rise up to his, ready to tell him exactly what she thinks. But when her _do_ eyes meet his, Lexie doesn't see what she expected. She doesn't see the piercing blue pupils that have made her tongue feel like it's stuck to the roof of her mouth more times than she can remember. She doesn't see the darkened azure gaze that has made her legs turn to jelly and her stomach erupt in flames many times in the past.

No, Lexie Grey doesn't see any of that. She simply sees him looking at her as if he hasn't seen her face in years, like she's a sight for sore eyes. She sees him looking at her, never blinking, like she's the only woman he's ever wanted to see in his life.

"Mark," Lexie whispers, not knowing if she wants to tell him to leave or stay.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't move closer or further away. Mark simply stares at her, as if waiting for her to make a decision. On what, she likes to pretend she has no idea. "You're the one who told me to stay away," she says finally, unable to tear her eyes from him. "You're the one who told me not to speak to you, not to see you, not to—"

"And you think I meant it?" Mark cuts in softly.

"What was I _supposed_ to think?" Lexie whispers back, her voice desperate at this discovering.

"Well, you weren't supposed to _believe_ me," Mark replies, shocked. "You were supposed to show up. That's what I was counting on. Back then, you always showed up. And now you—you were supposed to come back."

"But you…" Lexie's forehead creases in confusion. "You told me to let you go. You told me to leave."

Mark's voice is biting in its disbelief. "And you thought I meant it?"

"What was I _supposed_ to think? You _told me_ to let go."

"I never…"

"What?"

"I never thought you would," Mark admits softly.

"Oh, Mark."

"I would never be able to let you go. I just assumed the same for you." He takes a breath. "So even though I said it, I didn't mean it. Even though some part of me wanted it to be true, I knew it never could be. I could never feel like that and I thought… I thought you couldn't either. I didn't think it was possible for you to let me go." He looks at her. "I know it's not possible for me to let you go."

"How should I have known you felt all that?"

"I… I just thought you would. I thought you'd know what I know."

"And what's that?"

"That we belong together."

"Mark…"

"It's true, Lex," he says, finally taking a step towards her. Lexie looks up at him, not having any idea what to do. "Look at me, after all these years, and tell me we don't belong together on some level. Tell me I'm lying."

"You're not," Lexie whispers after a moment, unable to break her gaze from his. "You're not lying," she agrees before taking a breath. "But if you thought that, why did you send me away? Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because it was the right thing to do," Mark replies, slightly pained.

"Is it still the right thing now, after everything you've told me?" Lexie asks, glancing down as he moves closer. "Is it still the right thing?" She asks again, this time looking up into his eyes that seem to be much closer than they were a moment ago. Her lips part instinctually, as if her body is helping to remind her to breathe… Or it may just be a reaction to her proximity to him, which happens to be very close. If her finger had twitched forward, even just a few inches, it would come in contact with the material of his black pants. But in her state of acute anxiety, Lexie can barely move. She just watches, breathing shallow and barely detectable as he bends towards her, ever so slowly, as if testing her fight-or-flight response. _Will she stay or will she go?_

But that particular question isn't answered by her. It isn't even answered by him. It's answered by Derek Shepherd, who bursts through the kitchen mere seconds before their lips would have met and, most likely, never parted. Like forbidden lovers in a movie, Mark and Lexie fly apart, their heads jerking upwards and their gaze snapping, chagrined, to the intruder.

Derek stares at them, his eyes burning like blue fire as they move to settle on his best friend. Before he can say a word, Lexie has rushed across the room, her pale face even whiter than before, and squeezed past him. As the door opens and closes, the laughter and merry chatter from the holiday dinner floats into the silent-as-the-grave kitchen, a very real reminder that just because there's a wall between the two rooms, there is no privacy. As if Mark could ignore that fact now, with Lexie gone and his best friend glaring at him like he's the next Hitler.

"_Stop_," Derek hisses, walking into the room to stand before his friend. "Whatever it is you're doing with her, it has to _end. _Now."

"I'm not doing anything with her," Mark protests, knowing already that he's grasping at straws. _And if that's where this conversation is at the start, _he thinks darkly, _it can only get worse._

"Don't give me that shit," Derek spits, features alive with unconcealed rage. "I saw you two, plain as day, about to screw each other in _my _kitchen."

"We weren't—"

"I said don't give me shit!" Derek cuts in. "You've been lying long enough, don't start all over again with me."

Mark's eyes widen. _He knows? _"Derek, you don't understand," he manages, stunned.

"No, it's _you _who doesn't understand. I've understood for _years_."

The breath leaves Mark as if a punch had accompanied his friend's statement. "What?" He whispers when he can speak.

Derek shakes his head, walking around the kitchen so he won't punch his best friend in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner. "I've known for years, Mark," Derek replies from the other side of the table, his voice turning from loathing Mark to loathing himself, "and I've never said anything." He points at his friend. "And I know it's not just this one night. I know it's not just this one time. Not with her. So don't you lie to me. Don't act like I don't know you."

"Derek…"

"It's happened before and it will happen again. Do _not_ ruin her marriage like you ruined mine," he threatens. "Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything," Mark whispers, suddenly feeling incredibly lost as he almost stumbles backwards a few steps. "I just… I…"

Derek closes his eyes, immediately softening his fury-filled attack when he sees the pained expression on his friend's face. "Look," he says, stepping forward and laying a hand on the plastic surgeon's shoulder. "I understand, okay? I really do. I know you loved her, and I can assume from these past few years that you still do. But this… This, what you're doing here, with her? This isn't love, okay? This is you breaking apart two people's _lives_. You should know that by now. You can't keep doing this."

"This isn't Addison," Mark protests. "This isn't the same."

"I know that you don't think it's the same," Derek tells him, trying to be consoling and strict at the same time. "But that's because you're too close to it. If you were able to take a step back look around, you'd be able to see that you're acting exactly the same as before. This is the same as Addison, and it needs to end before someone gets hurt."

"But we aren't sleeping together," Mark whispers. "We're just...together. For what, two days out of the year, we can't just pretend? We can't just...fool ourselves into believing we haven't missed our chance?"

Derek lets out a long sigh, raising his tired eyes to meet Mark's. "Cheating emotionally is just as bad as cheating physically," he reminds the plastic surgeon softly.

"Yes, thank you, I believe I've been taught this lesson in morality one too many times by you, Shep," Mark snaps, remembering when he'd said almost the same thing to Lexie the night she'd slammed his door and left.

"I'm sorry," Derek tells him. "But that's how it is. You need to grasp that." His voice hardens. "And you need to end it."

"I can't."

"Unless she's leaving Jackson, you need to end this, Mark. It isn't fair." He pauses, looking towards the door and lowering her voice. "Is she leaving him?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? Haven't you asked?"

"No."

"You—you never asked her?"

"I used to," Mark sighs. "I used to ask her every time I saw her. And then I stopped."

"Why?"

"Because I saw that it was upsetting her. It wasn't... _Knowing_ wasn't worth upsetting her."

Derek's face creases in confusion and disbelief. "But if she said yes, than it would be worth it," he argues. He lowers his voice, curious now. "Why didn't you at least try?"

"Because I saw what my questioning was doing to her," Mark replies. "I saw how sad it was making her, and I realized that I could never force her into a decision. So I stopped. I stopped asking, and now I just look forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas, and the few hours we can pretend."

"So—so this is—this is more than just sex?"

"It _isn't_ sex," Mark corrects.

"Isn't? How _isn't_ it? When I walked in, you two were just about to—"

"We don't have sex," Mark cuts in. Derek studies him, surprised that his friend doesn't seem to be the least bit saddened by the fact. "At least not anymore."

"Well...what do you do?"

Mark looks at him. Derek takes the cue from the daggers currently shooting out of Mark's eyes that the question is too personal and moves on.

"Well, you—you must've, at some point," Derek reasons. "I mean, the old you wouldn't have stood for..." He pauses. "Wait…Mark, how long has this been going on?"

Mark turns away and Derek's voice turns grave.

"Mark, tell me how long she's been cheating with you."

The other man whispers a figure.

"What?" Derek asks, having not heard his friend.

Mark clears his throat, raising his guilty gaze to meet his friend's. "Since the day you adopted Zola."

Derek's eyes widen and he doesn't speak for a couple minutes. He takes a serious of deep breaths, his angry eyes on Mark, before speaking. "She is _nine_years old, Mark," Derek tells him slowly. Mark can almost hear the anger pulsing through his best friend's bloodstream.

"I know."

"Jesus Christ," Derek hisses. "I thought it was two years and that was bad enough—" Derek turns, taking a few breaths before pausing and re-evaluating the situation. He turns back to Mark, his forehead creased. "Wait, let me get this straight. You mean to say that this has been going on for _eight years_, and you never asked her for more? You've been seeing her for _eight years _and you never asked her to leave her husband?"

Mark shrugs. "It wasn't fair."

"Screw fairness!" Derek replies, his anger at being duped for so long now finding a new outlet. "That isn't right _to you_! She can't do that _to you_!"

"She can do whatever she wants," Mark replies softly, without even the slightest hint of malice. He can't even force his thought far enough away from her to notice that Derek, for once, is arguing on his side. _It'll be short-lived anyway, _Mark reasons. "She can do whatever she wants, but I'll always be here. I'll never leave. I'll always be waiting."

"Mark, this isn't good for you," Derek tells him. "This isn't healthy."

Mark chuckles. "You know I told myself that when I tried to move on, but as it turns out… This is all I have." He shrugs hopelessly. "It's all I've got left."

"You could find someone—"

"No," Mark cuts in firmly. "There is no one. Not like her."

"You just need to look—"

"I _have_ looked," Mark argues, turning to face his friend. "I've spent months—_years_—of my life looking for someone else. _Anyone _else. I have gone crazy looking for someone else so I can end this." He closes his eyes briefly. "Trust me when I say, Derek, there is no one else."

"Well, then…" Derek walks toward his best friend. "I'm sorry, man. But you still have to end it," he reminds the plastic surgeon quietly.

"You don't need to worry about that anymore," Mark mutters, looking towards the door. "We're over anyway."

"What? Just like that, after all this, you're _over_? She was just in here and you two were about to—"

Mark doesn't turn to meet his friend's shocked gaze. "I broke it off a couple weeks ago," he confides in his childhood pal with a sigh. "When Avery told me he wanted kids, I ended it."

Derek is silent for a few seconds as he processes this information. "You… You did that for him?"

Mark lifts his chin, taking his time before he speaks. "You could say that."

"What do you mean?" Derek asks quietly.

"I love her more than he does," Mark begins softly. "I know her better than he does, I _fight for her _harder than he does." Mark sighs. "But none of that matters, since he's the one she's married to. So I left it at that." He turns to Derek, but his gaze doesn't quite meet his friend's eyes. "I told her I didn't want to do what I did to you and Addison to anyone else. Even if we loved each other, I didn't want to do that again."

"That was…" Derek pauses, searching for the right words. "That was really good of you," he settles on, feeling like he should pat his friend on the back or award him with a medal fo decency.

"Yeah," Mark replies, his voice and features twisting with sarcasm. "I woke up with an awful hangover knowing that the love of my life is going to have children with someone else, but as long as I did the _right thing, _it'll all be okay, won't it?"

"Mark…"

"No. You know what? _No_. You don't get to look me in the eye and cheer me on for doing the right thing, for being the good guy. Not when you have no idea how hard it was for me, not when you have no idea how much I wish I could take it back, even now. Not when you have don't have any idea who I am anymore."

"I do know who you are," Derek says softly. "You're the same person you were eight years ago. You've aged, but nothing else has changed."

"Please," Mark mutters, turning his head away.

"No, really. You're the same person. You still want her and you still think you can have her, but you _can't _anymore, Mark. You need to face that reality and you need to _stop_ trying."

"Derek," Mark growls, his voice full of frustration. "Did I not just tell you that I'd called it off?"

"But you haven't given up," Derek observes. "That's why you were in here, about to kiss her, when I walked in. You haven't given up. You're still waiting for her."

Mark clenches his jaw, wishing Derek wasn't one of the few people able to read his thoughts just by looking at his face.

"But you can't be waiting anymore," Derek tells him, moving to stand in Mark's line of sight. "You can't be the fall-back guy. She's moved on and you have to, too. You've gotta move on, Mark, and it has to happen now."

"Why now? What makes you say it has to happen now?"

"The same reason you broke it off with her: she's having a family with him, Mark." Mark opens his mouth to dispute this fact, to tell Derek that she'd told him she _didn't _want a family—but he knows Derek will only spin her words the wrong way to get at his point. It's no use fighting his friend when Mark knows he's right. "That means she doesn't want a life with you," Derek continues. "She wants a life with _him, _and she is _married _to him, so let her have that. Let her live. Let her go now so she can start to move on."

"What about me?" Mark whispers. "What do I move on to?"

"Anything," Derek replies. "You can move onto anything, but you have to _move on_. You have to let her go, and you have to mean it this time. You have to honestly and truly leave her behind."

"You say it like that will be easy for me," Mark whispers, clenching his hands into useless fists. "Like I can stop loving her just because I know she loves someone else. Like I can just flick a switch and stop thinking about her everyday."

"No, it isn't easy," Derek agrees. "I know, with Meredith…" He licks his lips, clearing his head. "I know it isn't easy. But you have to try, for everyone's sake."

"What if we could be like you and Meredith, though?" Mark whispers, barely audible as he voices the one great wish he's held secret all these years. "What if… What if we could make it like you and Meredith did?"

Derek closes his eyes, using a hand to massage the back of his neck. "Mark," he begins quietly, suddenly feeling incredibly fatigued. "Listen, man…"

"No, see, I understand all the reasons why it can't work or won't work or whatever. We've spent the last hour discussing that, so I know. I know all the reasons. But what I… What I _want _to know is—what about that one reason that makes it work? What if we…what if we actually make it like you and Meredith? What if we can do it?"

Derek licks his lips, trying to simultaneously concentrate and sugarcoat his thoughts. "Mark, to do that…"

"What?" Mark asks hopefully, his face opening up with excitement. "To do that, you have to have someone you're married to, an affair, someone you're in love with who's willing to leave their spouse. We—we have that. Lexie and I, we have that."

Derek bites his tongue, holding back all of his rude rebuttals. "Mark," he says instead, trying to let down his friend gently. "Are you sure you have that?"

"Why wouldn't I be sure? We're—"

"Are you sure she's willing to leave her husband for you?" Derek asks quietly. Mark stares at him, and Derek can see the question freeze his friend's face. "Because," Derek continues softly, "from what I hear, she isn't willing to do that. From what I hear, that endeavor was so fruitless you even stopped asking her."

"But maybe now," Mark whispers. "Maybe now she's changed her mind…"

Derek frowns, honestly wishing he could take away some of his old friend's hopeless wishes and heartbreak. It has to be too much for one person to deal with all by himself. "I don't think so," Derek replies softly, doing his best to let Mark down easy. "She left as soon as I walked in, I don't think she—"

"Maybe she was embarrassed," Mark suggests. "That was probably why she left, because she was embarrassed."

"Mark…"

"This has to work," he whispers, his desperate blue eyes finding Derek's. "It has to. Derek, I—I don't have anything else. I don't have _anyone _else."

_Jesus, _Derek thinks. _I should have talked to him about this sooner. _"I know," he replies. "I know, but I don't…I don't think it will. I don't think she…" He sighs, forcing himself to look his friend in the eye while delivering the final blow. "I don't think she'll leave him for you."

Derek has to mentally remind himself not to take back his words as soon as he sees his best friend's face fall like it never has before. Even when he'd walked in on this friend with his wife—the horror and shame written over his face then is nothing compared to what is visible now. It's as if every feature of Mark's face had been holding out on that one last, desperate hope—and Derek had crushed it all, just with a handful of words. With a carefully aimed blow, Derek had shattered everything his best friend had been living for these past six years.

"I have to go," Mark whispers, tearing his eyes away before they have a chance to embarrass and heading for the back door.

"Mark," Derek calls after him, hastening to the opposite end of the room. "Mark, I'm sorry but—"

Derek breaks off as the back screen door slams in his face. He debates calling out to his friend, but Mark is already halfway across the lawn, his body hunched forward.

. . .

"Hey, guys," Derek calls a minute later, putting on his party face and walking back into the dining room. Many eyes look at him expectantly—and the pair he feels most acutely is Meredith's. He knows that she and her sister would be the only two to know that his next words were a lie before they even left his mouth. "Mark got an emergency page, so he had to head out."

There are a few audible groans from the crowd, and Derek searches for Lexie's face only to find her face hidden, turned away from him. Before he has a chance to approach her, his wife is by his side, her urgent voice in his ear.

"What happened back there?" Meredith whispers.

Derek just shakes his head. "I'll tell you later."

. . .

Later turns out to be a half-hour later, after Derek and Meredith had ushered Jackson and Lexie to bed so they could do the dishes themselves. A task that was usually completed in silence, the washing and drying tonight were accompanied by the couple's quiet and urgent voices.

"The way his face crumpled…" Derek sighs, shaking the water off his hands as he sets the last few plates out to dry. "God, Mer, it was like he'd never thought about it before. It was like he'd been living in a fairy-tale world, always thinking that something would work out, that a new situation would present itself and fix everything."

"But that didn't happen," she replies, following him over to the small table to they can talk without the distraction of cleaning up.

"I know," Derek replies heavily as he takes a seat across from his wife. "I just… I feel awful for him."

"It's his own fault," Meredith replies.

"Look, I know you don't like Mark, but he love—"

"It's her fault, too," she adds defensively. "I'm not just blaming Mark here, okay? Sure, he isn't my favorite guy, but he should have stopped this thing when it happened. And she should haven't been looking for him in the first place."

"Yeah, Meredith, about that…"

"What?"

"It turns out they've been together longer than we thought."

"Longer than _two years_? Are you kidding?" Her voice falls to a whisper at the look on her husband's face. "How long?"

"Eight years," Derek replies. "Since the day we adopted Zola."

"Oh… my god," Meredith breathes.

"I know."

"I don't… I don't even know what to say to that."

"I know."

"That's as long as _we've _been married," Meredith says, panicked. "They've been sleeping with each other for the entire length of our marriage?"

Derek frowns. "Well, apparently they haven't slept together in a while…"

Meredith rolls her eyes. "Oh, please."

"That's what I said."

"And Mark? What did he say they did, if they didn't sleep together?"

Derek shrugs. "I have no idea. He wouldn't tell me. I'm guessing they just… I don't know, hang out?"

Meredith eyes him skeptically. "You expect me to believe that she's been seeing him behind her husband's back for eight years and sex isn't involved _at all_?"

"Well, I think it was involved at _some _point," Derek reasons. "I just don't know how long ago that ship sailed."

"Or if it did," Meredith replies as Derek glances over at her. "He could be easily lying to you, you know."

"I'd know if he was lying."

"You didn't for six years," Meredith points out. Derek frowns, reluctantly accepting her point.

"That's true," he murmurs after a moment. He sighs, getting to his feet and taking his wife's hand as they head upstairs to bed. When the reach the top of the stairs, Meredith turns to use the bathroom while Derek walks softly to their room. He pauses by the guest bedroom, peeking in through the partly-open door. Derek can see they're both asleep, though Lexie's body language, for one, is far from relaxed. While Jackson lies comfortably on one side of the mattress, Lexie is curled on the other, her back to her husband while his hand rests, fingers reaching out slightly, between them. It may just be Derek's imagination, but it looks as if Lexie's pulling away from what would have been his embrace were they close enough.

Derek quickly shakes his head. _That's ridiculous_, he tells himself. _She's married to him, she loves him. _But as he takes another look, he can't help but agree with his prior observation. He wonders, secretly, if she does just the opposite with Mark.

. . .

_What do you do when you're stuck_

_Because the one that you love h__as pushed you away,_

_And you can't deal with the pain?_

_And now you're trying to fix me, m__end what he did,_

_Or find the piece that I'm missing_

_But I still miss him_

_Oh, I miss him_

_. . ._

**_He's the thorn in my flesh t__hat I can't take out._**

**_He's stealing my breath w__hen you're around._**

**_But you can't complete me, h__e's the part that is missing._**

_. . ._

_What do you do w__hen your heart's in two places?_

_You feel great but you're torn inside._

_You feel love but you just can't embrace it,_

_When you found the **right one**__ at the **wrong time**__._

. . .

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading, please leave me a review and tell me what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

_Christmas Eve_

_. . ._

Mark is almost to the Grey's front door when a voice calls him back. Her voice is quiet, an inquisitive 'hey' coming from the study to the right of the front door.

"Hey," Mark replies. It comes out as a tired sigh.

"You're leaving?"

Mark nods, watching her walk forward to stand on the front rug with him. He can hear the slight disapproval in her voice, but he had thought it better to leave without notice. He had paid his respects to the rest of the guests before he'd headed to the door. There was only one person left, of course, but seeing as she'd wandered off, he had high hopes that they wouldn't run into each other. It always seemed that they ended up bumping into each other, though. It was as if it forcing them together was some sort of cosmic joke. Or torture.

"I… I should go," Mark says, already planning to step away.

"Right," Lexie agrees. He's about to head to the door when her fingers reach out to touch his hand lightly. Mark jerks at the touch, his eyes flashing to hers. He's about to open his mouth when she continues, ignoring his surprise. "Merry Christmas," she tells him. And before he can say another word, Lexie's stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head lightly next to his neck. Mark freezes within her spontaneous embrace, but quickly moves to hug her back. He strains to keep it platonic, as if they were old lovers that had broken apart and nothing more. _Which_, Mark realizes sadly, _is exactly what we are now._

"I'll see you," Lexie whispers to him as she pulls away. Her hand rests on his side, just above his waist as she steps back. Mark looks down, but her hand is gone by the time his eyes can criticize her lingering touch.

"Yeah," he replies softly, wondering if she knows how desperately he'd like to continue what had been interrupted the last time they'd seen each other. "Next year."

"Sure," Lexie murmurs, stepping back. She heads back to rejoin her family, but stops in the doorway, watching him go. She sees him pause on the front steps, putting his hands in his pockets as he breathes in Seattle's cold winter air. A moment later, his hand shifts in his pocket, as if searching for something. When his fingers withdraw, there's a small white piece of paper in his hand. He studies it for a moment, feeling his heart beat faster.

_You sure you don't want to see me? I miss you._

Lexie whispers the words to herself, clinging to the wooden doorframe, as if her voice could reach him as well as her words. She hopes the final draft of the message she'd written and rewritten on countless pieces of paper was sufficient. She still wasn't sure if it was enough to make him think twice, enough to make him go back on his word. But still she hopes.

But as she looks out on the porch, her eyes glued to him, Mark stands, motionless. She wonders what's running through his head—she wishes she could see his face—but soon enough, he turns his head just a touch to meet her eyes. He takes the piece of paper, folds it, and slips it into his breast pocket, conveniently placed just above his heart. Lexie bites her lip, feeling her nails dig into the hard wood of the door, and waits for the inevitable rejection.

But instead of walking away, he nods. It's barely a dip of his head, but it makes Lexie catch her breath, her mind reeling at what it might mean. He must have see the mixed feelings spread out over her face: confusion, longing, desperation… So he mouths the words to her through the glass.

_I miss you too._

_. . ._

It's another few hours before Lexie can escape from Meredith's, but when the opportunity arises, she heads straight to Mark's apartment building. Her eyebrows draw together in a dark V at the base of her forehead as she arrives, hearing odd sounds through the door. When she pauses a moment, she can discern the pattern: pacing footsteps across the wood floor. _But what is he pacing about?_

Lexie grabs the key from her purse, unlocking the door and pushing it open. She pulls the key out of the deadbolt, looking up to see him pivot in his march to glance at her. "Hey." She gestures to him, shutting the door with a backhand push and moving into the room. "What's with the pacing?"

"I was thinking…" Mark explains. Lexie waits for him to continue, but when it's clear that he's lost in though again, she clears her throat.

"About what?"

"Something Derek said…"

"At Thanksgiving," Lexie finishes, watching as Mark's eyes meet hers. "What did he say to you in there, anyway? You just ran off…"

Mark shakes his head, simultaneously dismissing her questions and clearing his head. "We were talking about you," Mark begins, his mind grasping for any smooth way to launch into this discussion.

"You—you talked about _me _with Derek?" Lexie asks, eyes wide with fear. "Why did you talk to him about me?"

"He brought it up—"

Lexie moves forward, anxious for answers. "Why did you talk to him? God, Mark, what did you say? He could have talked to Avery—"

"He didn't talk to Avery," Mark replies, his voice dismissive of the other man. "Don't worry about it."

"Well…" Lexie rocks back on her heels, the fear suddenly gone from her. "What did he say, then, that's got you all confused?"

Mark inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes quickly before raising his head to meet her. "He asked me why I had never asked you to leave him." Mark pauses, gauging her opposition got the topic. When he sees that her forehead simply creases softly, he continues. "He wondered why we weren't…more than we are."

Lexie readjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "Look, Mark, if you're having second thoughts about me being here, I can just—"

"I don't have second thoughts," Mark begins slowly. "I have…_new_ thoughts." He pauses, and Lexie stares at him, confused. "I said I missed you, Lex. And I… I meant it. I really meant it. I don't want to only be able to see you a couple nights a year." He pauses, looking in her eyes. "And I'm sure you meant it too."

Lexie nods in an affirmation of his assumption, but her face remains guarded and slightly curious. "What…are you saying?"

"I want more," Mark answers simply, confidently.

Lexie blinks at him, her brows pulling down at his simple statement. "You…What?"

"I want more," he repeats. He crosses his arms over his chest, swallowing his fears and heightening hers. "I want you to choose."

. . .

_Everything is ending_

_I can't believe I didn't see it sooner._

_I know that this is what I need to do_

_Even though you haven't got a clue._

_. . ._

_Everything is changing_

_I have to keep you by my side tonight._

_And this must be_

_Why you found me_

_Why you found me._

_. . ._

_Author's Note: Sorry for the incredibly short chapter and late update, I promise to add another chapter tomorrow or in the next few days. I was going to post the two as one big chapter, but there's one part I can't get right, so I'm splitting it in two. Once I fix it, I'll post asap._

_Please review!_

_PS: Do you want her to choose or not to choose? And who should she pick if she does? ;)_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

_Author's Note: The rating of this story is changed to T, seeing as there'll be some swearing and coarse language. Though I suppose it should be been there already... Adultery, you know, not really an all-ages-appropriate topic._

_PS: Please keep writing reviews; they help so much!_

_. . ._

"_I want you to choose."_

"What?" Lexie breathes.

"I want you to choose between me and him, Lex." Mark pushes off from the wall he'd been pacing beside and takes a few steps towards her. "Right now."

She smiles nervously, glancing around as if her escape is in the walls surrounding them. "You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Mark," Lexie sighs, turning away from him and walking to the kitchen. "You can't ask me to do this now."

"You can't just dismiss me like that, Lex," Mark counters, following after her.

"I'm not dismissing you," Lexie replies evenly. "I'm just telling you that you can't do this to me right now."

"Why?" He asks, crossing his arms across his chest as he stands on the other side of the kitchen island from her. "Why is now a bad time?"

"It just…" Lexie sighs, resting her palm on the counter. "It just is," she finishes, knowing it's a poor answer.

"I am asking you, Lex, to please choose. Just pick. Please."

"Mark…" Lexie whispers. It's an unwritten rule that they never speak about anything heavy when they're together. That would destroy the perfect little illusion they've managed to create for themselves. But the rule's already been broken multiple times.

"I love you," Mark tells her, rounding the counter. Lexie looks away as he stands in front of her, taking her hands between his. "I know I was an ass before, but that was because I was scared, okay? And I'm not anymore. I thought I didn't have a future, I thought I lost mine, but I still have one…and it's with you."

"Mark, _really_…" Lexie mutters, turning away.

"I will always love you," he vows passionately, pulling her back to him, "and I will never do anything to hurt you. Please, just _please, _choose me." Her eyes rise, saddened, to meet his. "Lex," he whispers desperately at the torn look on her face. "Please."

"Mark," Lexie murmurs. "I told you I can't," she tells him as he drops her hands and walks past her. She turns to follow after him, feeling her throat constrict. "I told you that this is—this is too hard and I just…I _can't_ right now."

"Why is this so difficult for you?" Mark yells, turning around to face her. Lexie winces at the sound of his voice; she can't remember a single time when he's raised his voice this loudly at her. "I mean, Jesus, Lex, it isn't that hard! It's not like this is some huge decision you have to _think _about. Just do what you want for once in your own goddamn life!"

"You don't understand," Lexie manages, shrinking away from the anger on his face. "It isn't—isn't that simple."

"Bull_shit_," Mark replies, his voice coming out a low and dangerous growl. "It is that simple and you _know it_! You don't love him, okay? You love _me_. That's pretty fucking simple, Lexie."

"Mark, please…"

"You've kept me waiting for you," Mark informs her. "You kept me waiting all these years—in this state of suspended animation—but I can't _wait_ anymore. I want to _live, _Lexie."

"Oh?" She asks, voice sharp as she draws herself up to meet him. "You think it hasn't been the same for me? You think the only times I feel alive and _real_ aren't with you?"

"Then pick me! If I make you feel so alive, _PICK ME_!"

Lexie brings a hand to her face, rubbing her temple lightly with her fingertips. "I—I don't think you understand what you're asking me to do here."

"Of course I understand! I'm the one asking! And I'm _asking_ you to—"

"You're asking me to leave my _husband _for you," Lexie cuts in, her voice biting like a cold wind as her eyes flash angrily to his. "My _husband, _who I've been married to for six years."

"And who you've been cheating on for eight," Mark parries without missing a beat.

Lexie glares at him, but doesn't refute his undeniably true statement.

"Oh, don't look at me like I started it," Mark replies, rolling his eyes. "Don't look at me like it was my idea, or I'm to blame."

"You—"

"You showed up at _my_ door, okay? I didn't go looking for you."

"You're the one who let me in," Lexie counters triumphantly. "You could have turned me away, but you didn't."

"Whatever," Mark mutters, looking away. He sighs slowly, turning back to her. "Just give me a decision with a proper reason and I'll leave it alone," he continues quietly, switching subjects. He steps forward, so they're just a foot apart and lifts his hand. He reaches out, brushing her cheekbone softly as he looks over at her. "Tell me who you want," he murmurs. "Just tell me who."

Lexie sighs, closing her eyes and savoring the feel of him so closer to her. "You," she whispers, covering her face shamefully with her hands. "I want you."

"So why is this that hard?" Mark argues softly, letting his hand fall. "Why can't you just follow what you want? If you want me, you can _have me_."

"Because I made a promise," Lexie excuses.

"Divorces happen everyday," Mark reminds her patiently. Lexie removes her hands at his words. "Especially ones that stem from unhappy marriages."

"Mark."

He ignores the warning in her voice and presses on. "You know I'm not making this up, Lex. You aren't happy with him. You don't want to be married to him. You don't _want him._"

"You don't know that," Lexie argues futilely, knowing her statement is meaningless.

"Oh, yes, I do," Mark counters quickly, as she knew he would. She wishes he wouldn't sound so smug about it. "You want to know how I know this?"

"No." Lexie shakes her head, but it doesn't deter him.

"It's because you keep coming back to _me_. Month after month, year after year, you keep showing up at _my _doorstep, Lexie." He points two fingers at his own chest. "It's because you want me. You don't want me for sex, you don't want me for revenge, you don't want me because you're bored in your marriage, you just _want me in your life_."

"Mark—"

"Why else would you spend hours here just sitting and talking with me? Why else would you ask _me _about surgical techniques when you have _him_ sitting at home, perfectly able to answer all the questions for you?" He tilts his head, looking down at her. "Why else would you show up and two in the morning on Christmas Eve, unless you want to fall asleep in _my_ arms and not his? Wake up to _me _and not him?" He takes a breath. "Why else would you be here, right now, arguing with me?"

"Mark, please…"

"It's because _you love me_," Mark answers for her. "The only reason you would do that is because you want to be with me—you want to spend your life with _me _and not _him_." He sighs, suddenly deflating as quickly as he'd risen to the challenge of her words. "But you are with him. Because it's _easy_."

"It's more than that," Lexie protests automatically.

"Really? What is it, then?"

"Ugh, can we just…"

"No, really, if it's more than convenience, then tell me what it is that's keeping you with him."

Lexie closes her eyes, sighing. "I don't want to hurt him," she whispers after a moment. "I may not love him, but that doesn't mean I want to hurt him."

She watches Mark's face grow serious, as if freezing in place at her words, and it's a few moments before he can respond. "Well, instead of thinking about the people you _aren't _hurting, why don't you think about the ones you _are _hurting," Mark spits before turning and walking to the door.

"Mark—" Lexie calls, moving to follow him.

"I have never asked you for _anything, _Lexie," Mark cuts in sharply, spinning around to face her. "Never. I have never asked you to pick me over him, I have never asked you to stay longer, and I have _never _asked you to turn this into something. I have _never asked anything _of you. I have let you make the rules, I have let you come and go as you please, and I have never said _a thing_." Mark takes a deep breath, marshalling his thoughts. "And you've taken advantage. You've taken advantage of the fact that I still feel guilty for the way we ended and you've used it to pull me back again and again."

"I'm not using you."

"That doesn't mean you aren't taking advantage." He pauses. "And I've never said a thing. I've just let it happen but—"

"So why now?" Lexie asks quietly, tilting her head towards his. "If you've never said a thing, why are you asking me for something now?"

"Because I deserve it," Mark states coolly. "I deserve to get my chance at happiness, and you're the only one who can give me that."

"There are other—" Lexie tries to excuse.

"There is no one else and there is _nothing_ else," Mark cuts in forcefully. "There has never been anyone but you and there never will be. _You _are _it_. God," he shakes his head, "you should really know that by now."

Lexie bites her lip, not knowing what to say except the fact that she feels just as he does.

"Tell me he feels the same way," Mark goads. "Tell me that he literally _cannot _imagine a life without you. Tell me that he doesn't live for the few hours every _year _that he gets to see you and is able to pretend against his better judgment and _reality_ that you two are together. Tell me he feels all that, tell me he experiences all that, and then when you realize he _doesn't, _tell me who does."

"Mark, come on," Lexie whispers, placing her hand atop his. "Can't we just…"

"No," Mark shakes his head, walking away from her touch and letting the counter separate them again. "We cannot 'just.' We're discussing this. And you're not leaving until you pick someone."

"Mark, this isn't _fair_. You can't just spring this on me—"

"_NO!" _He shouts, his hand slamming loudly onto the granite countertop, causing Lexie to visibly jump at the sound. "I will tell you what _isn't fair_. What isn't fair is losing you so many times that I think that _this,_" he points between them with an extended arm, "—this shitty little affair—is all I deserve. What isn't fair is hoping that someone will find out about us because then, at least—" he laughs without humor "—you would be _forced _to make a decision. What isn't fair is being able to be with you without actually _being with you_," Mark tells her, getting more and more desperate by the second. "What isn't fair is suffering almost every day of the _year_ because I know you chose him and not me—married _him _and not _me_." Lexie's eyes widen slightly at this, but she isn't able to focus on any single sentence as he utters them faster than she can barely hope to keep up. "What isn't fair is knowing that I am _wasting my life_ waiting for someone who's making her own with someone else!" He shakes his head, staring down at her speechless face with contempt. "What isn't fair is me being the idiot, thinking that you might actually pick me," he spits out before walking away.

Lexie stares after him, too stunned by his outburst to speak or move. Her eyes follow after him, thinking he'll reach the door and then turn around to face her again… But he doesn't. He simply opens it, steps out, and slams it shut.

The rattling of the door on its hinges seems, as well as the _boom_ing slam that accompanies it, seems to spur Lexie into action. She makes it across the room in just a few seconds, already shouting his name as she opens the door. "Mark, wait! Mark, please, _hey," _she calls, catching up to him. He ignores her, though she's only a few feet away. "_Mark,_ don't leave me. Please," she cries as she grabs onto his arm. "Please, I need you. We can—we can talk about this, okay? Just stay here, please. Just stay with me. We can talk about this."

Mark turns, staring down at her and doing his best to remain unfeeling. No matter how badly he wants to reach out and hold her and tell her everything's going to be okay, he knows he can't do that anymore. He needs her to make a choice.

"I need more than this, Lex," Mark tells her, struggling to stay detached. "It's either you let me in or…we're done."

"_Mark._" Lexie chokes out his name.

"I need you to make a decision, Lexie," he reminds her.

"You—you can't," she whispers. "You can't leave me like this."

"I'm not going anywhere," Mark corrects her patiently. "I'm staying right here. I am waiting for you to come to me. I am waiting for you to choose me. I am _always _waiting for you."

"But I—I can't. Don't you understand that? I _can't choose you._ I want you and I love you, but I _can't choose you_."

Mark turns his head, looking away. He blinks slowly, not being able to summon enough willpower to care that she's seeing him cry. "Then we're done," he whispers, his voice cracking. He turns back to her. "I love you and I'll always love you, but I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore. I can't be just a supporting player in your life. I need more than that, and I need it now."

"Mark," Lexie whispers, her name slipping between his lips almost without a sound. "Mark, don't do this. Please, please don't do this. Not again, not now."

"I'm not doing anything," he shrugs. "You're the one who's stopping us. You're the one who isn't giving me more. You're the one who's choosing wrong."

"But I'm in love with you!" Lexie cries.

"Then you should be able to _choose me_," he implores her, suddenly desperate again. "Just say me you've picked me and you have me. All you need to do is tell me."

"I…" Lexie's lower lip trembles, unable to voice the words. He stares at her, waiting for her to contradict herself. It doesn't come.

"That's what I thought," Mark replies, not even bothering to curb the bite in his voice as he turns away. "I knew you didn't really care about me. Didn't _really_ love me." Lexie's eyes widen at his words, feeling her breath catch at his insane accusations. Ignoring her response, he continues his assault. "And I knew when it came to hard decisions you'd chicken out and take the easy route. You always do."

Lexie stares after him, her eyes burning holes into the back of his head with all the anger she's kept buried inside as she watches him walk down the hallway.

"Hard—_hard_ _decisions_?" Lexie screams after him a second later, nose scrunched up and eyebrows pulled down in rage. "You think I don't make _hard decisions, _you arrogant _asshole?_"

Mark turns, smiling, but the curve of his lips has a patronizing quality to it. "Sweetheart, I know you don't."

Mark is still walking away when her voice, suddenly quiet and clear as a bell, stops him in his tracks.

"I aborted his baby."

. . .

_This is my renaissance_

_This is my one response_

_This is the way I say I love you_

_This is my second chance_

_This is my one romance_

_This is the cutting line on which I stand to show you_

_. . ._

_This is my broken heart_

_This is my bleeding start_

_This is the way I've come to know you_

_This is my winding road_

_This is my way back home_

_This is the narrow door you know that I will walk through_

_. . ._

_This is my renaissance_

_This is my one response_

_This is the way I say_

_I love you_

_Author's note: Please review! :)_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

_Author's Note: Did I catch you by surprise with that one?_

_. . ._

_"I aborted his baby."_

Mark blinks, his back to her, as he processes the words. Four words, fifteen letters. Not a substantial speech, but still it makes his blood run cold and his heart beat faster. It's a full minute before he can turn around, and even then he can't seem to make his mouth work in tandem with his brain.

"Now, why do you think I did _that_?" Lexie shouts, staring at him with her hands on her hips and angry tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. Her world hasn't frozen like his has, and she's more than happy to continue. "Why do you think I elected to get rid of a _perfectly good_ baby from my _perfectly good_ husband?" Lexie brings a finger to her lips, as if pondering the answer. "Oh! I know! Maybe it was _because of YOU_," Lexie shouts, glaring at him and quickly closing the distance between them and shoving him hard in the chest. In his shocked state, all Mark can do is stumble backwards, just managing to stay on his feet. "Maybe I decided to give up a future with my husband because I couldn't stop thinking about _you _long enough to even _contemplate_ it!" She punctuates her words with another rough shove.

"You…you aborted it?" Mark whispers, righting himself.

"Yes," Lexie hisses. "So don't you dare try to look down on me and say I don't make hard decisions. Don't you dare try and say that I don't love you, that I don't care for you. _You_ don't know what that was like for me. _You _don't know what I went through." She takes a ragged breath. "So don't you try to say that you're the only one sacrificing things here. Don't you _dare_." Lexie swallows the lump in her throat, looking him in the eye. "I aborted my husband's baby so I could be with you," she tells him again, and her hushed voice seems to emphasize how much all of these intersecting roads in her life have pained her. She stares right back at him, though, her gaze never wavering. She lifts her chin, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"I have had to give up everything I know and believe for you. _Everything. _I have had to give up feeling secure in _any _part of my life in favor for _this_. I'm constantly terrified someone will find out, constantly on edge because any conversation we have could contain the words 'I know about him,' but it's _worth it_ because I get to _be_ with you!" She pauses, looking away. "Because you are what I want—what I need—I've given up feeling normal. I honestly don't know what it means to be happy without feeling incredibly guilty at same time. I cannot tell the two apart because they've spent so much time twisted together and now I don't know how to be happy without hurting someone." She looks up at him, her dark eyes large and round as they stare at him. "I don't know how to be happy without you."

"If I make you happy, then pick me," Mark replies softly, stunned by everything she's said. "Just… just screw everything else and do what makes you happy."

"Right," Lexie laughs. "'Screw everything else and do what makes you happy,'" she quotes slowly. "See, I can't _do _that!" She says, pointing to her chest. "It's easy enough for you—all you have to do is yell and scream and say you deserve more and you've played your part. That's all _you_ have to do."

"I—"

"But what about me, hm? My part never _ends_. My part is going back to him and saying, 'Thanks for playing, but I've found someone else to spend my life with. You had a good run.' _My_ part is ruining his life. That's my part."

"So?" Mark counters. "It shouldn't be that hard. You've been doing it for years." Lexie stares at him, unable to determine if he's talking about himself or her husband. "You've been halfway there this whole time."

Lexie shakes her head. "No. No, you don't understand. You think this is simple, but it _isn't. _You think I can just walk up to him and demand a divorce but _I _can't. What you're asking of me is too much."

"It isn't—"

"You are _asking_ me to go up to him after _six _years of marriage—not one, not two, not five—"

"I am _well_ aware of how long you've been married, Lexie, thank you," Mark cuts in coldly.

Lexie crosses her arms, matching his unwelcome demeanor. "Then you should understand why this can't happen."

"All _I _understand," Mark corrects her, "is why it _should _happen. Why it _has to _happen."

"You are being extremely unfair."

"You want unfair?" Mark juts out his chin. "Look in the mirror."

"Shut up."

"It's true," he continues. "You're the perfect example of how to treat people unfairly."

Lexie shakes her head, turning to glare at the ceiling. "You still don't fully understand what you're asking of me."

"Of course I do."

"No. You always do this. You always get these big plans in your head, think they can be accomplished, and then freak out when they fall apart. Well, guess what Mark: This one won't work."

"The only reason it won't work is because you aren't trying. I'm ready to give it my all, but if you aren't…" Mark shakes his head. "If you aren't ready to fight for this like I am, then just don't bother."

"No," Lexie shakes her head vigorously, advancing on him. "No, you do _not_ get to pin this on me. You don't get to take this fucked-up situation and pretend that it's _my _fault it isn't working."

"But it _is_ your fault_. You _aren't trying."

"I am," Lexie shouts back. "I am trying my _best _here, okay? This is all I can do, alright?"

"You aren't—"

"_Stop it_!" Lexie screeches angrily. "Before you say I'm not trying, before you say I don't care about you, before you say I don't _love_ you, why don't you stop a moment and look at what _I've _sacrificed! Look at what _I've _done to keep you in my life. Look at how _I've _fought for you. Look at that baby _I_ gave up and tell me I'm not trying, tell me I'm not making hard decisions, tell me I don't _love you_. _Look at me_ and tell me I don't give things up for you. For us."

"You haven't…given up enough," Mark manages, not knowing how to counter her words or her tears.

"Oh, that's rich!" Lexie laughs, throwing her head back and wiping the tears that had fallen on her face. "It's never _enough_, is it? Not for you, huh? No matter what I've done, it will _never_ be enough. It will _never_ match what _you've _struggled through, will it? You're _always _worse off. You _always _get the short end of the stick. You're _always _the one to be pitied."

"You don't understand," Mark manages, trying to ignore the truth in her words. "What I've had to live with—"

"You haven't been living a lie!" Lexie shouts, cutting him off.

"Yes, I have," Mark replies quietly. "I have."

"Not as blatant as mine," Lexie argues angrily. "Not as painful as mine."

"Then end it," Mark suggests. "End the pain, the lies, and stay with me. Just say it. Just say the word and it will be over. It will all be over."

"It isn't that simple."

"But it _can be_. You want to make it hard, but it doesn't _have_ to be. You want this to be the most difficult decision in your life, but it _isn't_. It's simple, so simple. Just do what you want, Lex."

"Enough with this 'do what you want' shit! I _can't _do what I want! What I _want _isn't an option here!"

Mark stares at her, biting the inside of his lip to keep from yelling. "You said you wanted _me_, okay? You can have me. All you have to do is leave him. That's it."

Lexie shakes her head, her voice cold and hard. "You need to stop acting like I'm able to just walk up to him and denounce our marriage."

"What? You can't do it? Hell, I'll do it _for _you."

Lexie narrows her eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would. For you, I would."

"He'd kill you."

"You know what? At this point, I really don't care. Let him try and kill me." Mark sighs. "Let's just get this over with, once and for all. It's me or him, Lex. Let's go."

Lexie closes her eyes, walking a few paces to the right so she doesn't have to look at him. She can't think with him staring at her. "I want to be with you, alright? I do. But I honestly can't see it happening."

"So you're picking him," Mark finishes for her.

"I didn't say that."

"So you're picking me?"

"I didn't _say _that." She whips around. "God, why do you always have to jump to conclusions? It's so annoying."

"Hurry it up," Mark orders by way of reply. "I don't want to be standing in this damn hallway all night."

"Quit acting like this is a decision that can be made in a night. It _isn't_. This is my _life_."

"It's mine, too, if you haven't noticed. And it _is _a decision that can be made in a night. You just need to stop being a child and pick someone."

"Your insults are really tipping the scale in your favor," Lexie snaps sarcastically.

"The scales are already set. You just need to admit which one comes out on top."

Lexie doesn't reply, and the silence between them stretches on for minutes. They've reached an impasse, a stalemate of words. Neither of them knows how to breach it, so Mark tries a different tactic.

"Why do you think you have to stay with him?" Mark asks softly, breaking the ice between them. The question, one that could easily be voiced in anger or bitterness, is cloaked only in curiosity as it leaves his lips. "If you were willing to give up a baby to be with me, then why not a marriage?"

Lexie turns her head away, shielding her face from his. "I…I was not raised to believe that divorce was an option for married couples in love."

"'In love' being the operative phrase," Mark notes quietly.

"Yes, well, it's no different," Lexie replies, knowing what he's hinting at.

"It's plenty different. Being in love changes things. And you don't love him. You said so."

"I didn't mean it."

"You're not one to spout words for no reason. You might ramble on, but there's always a reason." He pauses. "Why won't you leave him?"

"Look," Lexie sighs. "I know that you don't understand. And I know that you're angry. But this has been my life for _six years_. It's been me and him, being together, living together, for six years. He's always been there. And I can't—can't just walk away from that like it's nothing. I can't just leave him behind." Lexie looks away, biting her lip and closing her eyes against the tears. "I—I can't be alone after that. I don't know how."

"You won't be alone," Mark replies quietly after a moment. "I can make sure of that."

Lexie's eyes flicker up to his, as he snatches at his chance. "If you leave him, I promise you that you will never have to leave anyone else," he tells her earnestly, stepping towards her. "You will never be alone and you will always have _me_. I will never do anything to hurt you and I will never ask for anything more. All I want is to be with you, Lexie, and I don't care in what capacity, as long as it is _more than this_."

"Mark, I…"

"I can't do this anymore, Lex." He shakes his head sadly. "I honestly can't take it like this. I need a decision." He stares at her, his eyes somehow hard and tender at the same time. "I need you in my life, and not just on the days that the banks are closed." Her eyes blink up at him, torn. "Just say 'yes,'" he whispers gently. "All I need is one word."

Lexie licks her lips, biting the lower one as she stares up at him. "I need you to promise me," she whispers, voice shaking.

"Anything," Mark vows, wishing she could forego this and just make a decision. But he knows she needs reassurance like this. It's what's been putting them off for so long.

"I need you to promise me that everything you just said was true." She blinks back tears. "I need you to promise me it will always be true."

"I promise," Mark replies, taking her hand. "I promise you it will always be true." He takes a breath, squeezing her fingers. "And if you ever need my help, I'll be there for you, okay?"

Lexie stares at him for a moment before reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips travel to his left cheek, where she presses a kiss to his skin softly. Mark immediately deflates at the contact, thinking she's giving him a horribly bittersweet goodbye. But then her lips drift to his ear.

_ "Yes."_

. . .

_Waiting for you by the Santa Maria_

_How long must I stay with these letters from you?_

**_I don't know whether we'll end up together_**

**_But I always know that_**

**_Our love is true._**

_And when it's done, we will walk where the road meets the sun._

_. . ._

_Don't disappear_

_(Darlin', I want you)_

_Don't leave me here_

_(And when the day comes)_

_I'll meet you here_

**_Cause I know that wishes come true_**

**_Finding my way back to you…_**

_. . ._

_Author's Note: I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I rewrote it four separate times, and ended up mixing two of them together, but I still don't think it works perfect. Review and tell me what you think of it, please._

_So a bunch of people are pissed at Lexie. Well, I'm pissed at her, too. But I feel like this is a big decision for her, and doesn't just want to make a snap decision. I'll explain a bit more her hesitance towards the actual act of divorcing someone, but that's what other chapters are for. Thanks for putting up with all this, guys. :)_

_And, shakamia, you want Lexie all alone and unhappy? :( That's so sad! Even if she pisses me off (like in the show I am currently not watching anymore) I'll always want her with Mark. They're perfect. :)_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, please keep sending them!_

_. . ._

"Yes?" Mark asks, feeling this too good to be true. Lexie nods against his neck and he can feel tears sinking into the collar of his shirt.

"Yes," Lexie repeats, pulling back and nodding her head with a smile. "Yes."

Before she can say another word, Mark's arms wrap around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Thank you," he whispers, holding her tight and leaving Lexie breathless. "Thank you so much."

Lexie folds into his body, her arms clutching his back. "If we're doing this, you can never go back on your word," Lexie tells him.

"I know," Mark replies, still holding onto her. "I promised."

Lexie pulls back, her hands sliding from his back to his forearms, and holding him there. "I'm going to need your help," Lexie warns him. "I'm going to need someone on my side."

"I'm always on your side." He smiles, the smallest upward curve of his lips. "I love you."

Lexie steps forward. "I love you too." And then her lips meet his.

. . .

"Will you stay tonight?" Mark breathes when their lips break apart minutes later.

Lexie glances up at him. Though she knows it shouldn't have, his request catches her a bit off-guard. Just yesterday, she would have said no. Just yesterday, he wouldn't have bothered asking.

"If you want me to," Lexie replies. But today isn't yesterday. Today she won't be making any excuses that there's a husband waiting for her return at Meredith's. And those realizations speak more to Mark than almost anything she's said tonight.

"I want you to."

Lexie smiles, taking his hand within hers. "Then I'll stay."

Mark smiles back, kissing her temple softly. "Thank you," he whispers against her skin. Lexie leans into the kiss and his body, letting him lead them slowly back to his apartment.

Mark and Lexie don't speak much as they enter the apartment and head towards the bedroom. Mark turns off the lights as they go, knowing they won't be returning to the other rooms anytime soon.

"I didn't bring clothes," Lexie states as soon as they enter the room.

"You can borrow some," Mark suggests.

Lexie frowns. "I'll drown in your clothes."

Mark shrugs. "Or you could sleep naked."

Lexie narrows her eyes at him. "Give me a shirt."

Mark chuckles at this, tossing her an old t-shirt. "Shorts?"

"They won't fit," Lexie replies. She strips off her jeans. "Compromise: I'll wear underwear on the bottom."

"That is _not _the same as being naked," Mark states, pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

"Well, I'll freeze if I'm naked," Lexie argues, pulling on the shirt and walking to one side of the bed. "You okay over there?" She asks with a laugh, nodding to his thousand-yard-stare.

"What?" Mark asks, snapping out of it. "Oh, I was just thinking."

"About?" Lexie asks, moving under the covers.

"About," Mark replies as he joins her, "whether or not this is actually happening."

Lexie eyes him tenderly. "It _is _actually happening," she assures him, sliding over to lie in his arms.

"Good," Mark murmurs above her, his head propped up on various pillows.

A comfortable silence stretches on between them as Lexie tries not to remember the last time she spent the night at Mark's apartment. They've fought enough tonight as it is without dragging the past up out of it's grave.

"I love you," she whispers quietly, trying without success to push the memories away. As if those few words could change what's happened in the past.

. . .

_Eight years ago…_

_. . ._

_"I have to go."_

_"What?" Mark asks, blinking in the morning light and stifling a yawn. He looks over to see her standing up, searching for her clothes. An involuntary grin sprouts on his face, remembering how she'd arrived at his door late last night and what she'd said. "Why? Where do you have to go?"_

_"Home," Lexie replies. "To Meredith's."_

_"I can take you there," he offers sleepily. "If you need a ride to get your stuff…"_

_"I don't need a ride, Mark. And I don't need my stuff. If I did, I'd get one from Callie or Arizona."_

_Mark's forehead creases in confusion. "Why?"_

_"Because Callie and Arizona are _not_ my ex-boyfriend."_

_"Ex?" Mark questions, blinking and sitting up in bed. "What do you mean, ex?"_

_"That's what you are," Lexie replies matter-of-factly, still searching for her bra._

_"You mean, that's what I _**was**_," Mark corrects, the sleep leaving him as he tries to follow her train of thought.  
>"No," Lexie says, finally spotting the garment and bending down to grab it. "<em>**Are**_." She clips it on, slipping her shirt on top. "You _**are** _my ex."_

_"So…" He pauses, trying to think of any other option. "So what, that—you showing up here, being with me—didn't mean anything?"_

_"Mark, I have a boyfriend," Lexie replies, her voice sounding distracted as she turns her back to him and adjusts her shirt._

_"And that isn't me?"_

_Lexie sighs. "Come on. You know who it is."_

_"Oh, I'm sorry," Mark says mockingly, getting to his feet and walking around the bed to face her. "Did I take you showing up at my door last night, saying you loved me, and would _**always** _love me, the wrong way? Did I take you spending the night here the _**wrong**_ way? Was I not supposed to take it as a sign that we were back together?"_

_"I can't be back together with you," Lexie tells him. "I have—"_

_"—a boyfriend," Mark finishes for her, his voice as cold as his eyes. "Right. How silly of me. I can't believe I thought you saying you _**loved me**_ made a difference."_

_"It was a moment of weakness, Mark," Lexie explains impatiently._

_"Yes, a moment of weakness," Mark agrees, his voice lofty before crashing back down. "Followed by many _hours_ of weakness."_

_Lexie sighs, pursing her lips at him. "Look, I'm sorry I came, alright? I shouldn't have stayed. I should have just left after we…" Her eyes widen, and as her mind catching up with her mouth, she immediately stops talking._

_His eyes widen at her unfinished sentence. "You…"_

_"I should go," Lexie says softly, exiting the bedroom._

_Mark stares after her, disbelief opening his features. It's a few seconds before he runs after her, grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving._

_"You _**used**_ me," Mark accuses, unable to discern if he's feeling more hurt or angry. "You showed up here and you _**knew**_ how I felt about you and you _**used **_me."_

_"I have a boyfriend, Mark."_

_He shakes his head vigorously, as if denying her statement could make it false. "How could you do this to me? You just—what, you think you can just show up here and I'll sleep with you, no questions asked?"_

_"Well, yeah, that's what happened, isn't it?" Lexie snaps before she can stop herself. She sighs as she sees the hurt flash through her eyes. "Look, I didn't show up with the intention of sleeping with you, okay?"_

_"Then what _**did** _you show up here with the intention of?" Mark cuts in. "Cause you sure as hell don't want me back, I can see that clearly now."_

_"I just…"_

_"What? Why did you come here?"_

_"I missed you," Lexie admits beneath the barrage of his questions. "And what—what I said before, yesterday—I hadn't meant it. So I just wanted you to know."_

_Mark takes a breath, covering his eyes in irritation. "Okay, let me get this straight. You show up here after telling me that I _**don't** _make you happy, that you _**don't** _want to love me, just so to take it all back—and then disappear in the morning? Just to sleep with me one more time before running home to Avery?"_

_"Mark, I told you I didn't mean to sleep—"_

_"If you didn't mean to sleep with me then _**why are you here**_? Why did you show up, Lex? Why did you stay?"_

_"To tell—"_

_"If it was just to say you loved me, well, mission accomplished. I heard you the first time. And the second. Loud and clear." He raises his chin. "Now tell me this: Does it change anything between us?"_

_Lexie looks down, and Mark gathers the answer from her silence—though he can barely speak the words._

_"You're going back to him," he manages._

_Lexie shakes her head. "There's no going back; I never left."_

_"Right," Mark replies coldly. "You never left. This meant nothing to you." He draws a ragged breath, trying to keep his wits about him as he feels everything between them falling away again. Just like it always does. Just like it always will. "Why… Why did you let me take you to bed if you knew you'd regret it in the morning? Why'd you do that to me?"_

_"I don't know," Lexie whispers, not being able to raise her voice when his is so hushed with heartbreak._

_"Why did you tell me you loved me if you were just going to leave me behind for someone else?"_

_"I just wanted you to know," Lexie replies. "I just… I wanted to tell you in person."_

_"You already _told me_ in person," Mark points out. Lexie bites her lip, knowing all of her excuses are gone._ _Mark shakes his head, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Right," he begins a moment later, accusations dripping from his mind to his mouth. "You came here to tell me you loved me because you knew what it would lead to."_

_"Mark—"_

_"You _**knew**_ if you said those words I'd let you in, no questions asked—because I would _**assume** _that we were back together." The betrayal he feels can be seen clearly when Lexie meets his eyes. "I can't believe you," Mark spits out, enraged a moment later. "You _**knew **_I loved you, you _**knew **_I'd do anything for you, so you show up and take advantage of that!"_

_"I said I was sorry—"_

_"For staying! You said you were sorry for staying the night, like it would have been better if you'd snuck out while I was asleep! Like that would have hurt less!"_

_"Mark…"  
>"Just go." He waves his hand. "Go. I don't even want you here if you can't even <em>**try **_to be a human being and take my feelings into account."_

_Lexie follows his order and heads to the door, but with her hand on the knob, she glances back at him, her eyes sympathetic. She contemplates telling him she's sorry, but Lexie knows that won't do any good. It's better to make a clean break, just as she'd done many times before with him. Or tried to._

_"Bye," she mutters after a tense moment of holding his steely gaze. She turns to go, letting the door fall closed behind her, but Mark's hand moves to hold it open._

_"Hey," he calls as she starts to walk away. Lexie turns around slowly, her eyes wary. "Don't bother showing up again," he tells her, confident he won't make the same mistake twice. Even if she_does _show up at his door again—and he realizes a second appearance is far from likely, considering how quick she is to leave—he knows he'll be able to turn her away. Since he knows she doesn't _really _want him, it won't be so hard to deny her next time. If there _is _a next time, that is. "It was a moment of weakness for me too." He looks her in the eye, his gaze narrowing to accentuate his point. "And it _**won't**_ happen again."_

_. . ._

So you got what you want out of me:

Took me for a ride but you never bothered saying good-bye.

No return, I burn.

Everything you learned put me in detention

Now you've got so much attention from me

**But I'd do it again.**

. . .

'Cause when she starts leaving,

My heart stops beating once again.

And when she starts waving,

My heart starts breaking up again.

**But I'd do it again.**

. . .

So I got what I want out of you,

**But I choose to keep it real close, keep it so that nobody knows**

**All that I have, it's all that I have.**

But I'm so afraid of losing

And I'm so afraid of bruising

**'Cause I've been here before, but I still want more**

**And I'd do it again.**

**Yeah, I'd do it again.**

_. . ._

_Author's Note: Ugh, god, I really didn't want to leave that one there. But if I kept it going, the chapter would be way too long. So don't worry, everyone, that was just a flashback. I'll try to update tomorrow so you're not left with that for too long. :)_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

_Fair warning: A bit of suggestive dialogue towards the end._

. . .

"What are you thinking about?" Mark murmurs a few minutes later, kissing the back of her neck as they lie beside each other, bodies curved together. "You wondering if this is really happening too?"

Lexie shakes her head. "That first night," she whispers, voice choking with shame. She can't even meet his eyes.

"Oh." She doesn't miss how it takes him a few seconds to voice even the smallest of responses.

"That was horrible of me," Lexie tells him, "to do that to you. It was awful."

"It…" Mark begins, trying to play off her actions, but can't find a suitable way to turn the situation. "Yes," he replies truthfully after a moment. "It was."

"Thanks," Lexie says, half-laughing as she turns to look at his face, wiping hers quickly.

"I'm only agreeing with you," Mark shrugs, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "And it's true."

"I've regretted it ever since I did it," Lexie tells him, reaching out to touch his face hesitantly. Her fingertips drag slowly across the skin of his cheek. "I've always felt so awful for how I acted. It was just…terrible."

"It's okay," Mark shrugs, reaching up and taking her hand within his. "I had pretty much forgotten it."

"You're lying," Lexie observes softly, staring hard at him. "But that's okay," she allows after a moment, "since I know you're doing it to make me feel better. So I appreciate it."

"As long as you don't wake up tomorrow and regret tonight, I don't care what happened in the past." He pauses. "I can understand, though, why you did it. I can… I get why you went back."

"Don't say that," Lexie whispers, tracing the line of his jaw lightly. "You don't have to say that."

"I'm just telling you I understand, is all." He shifts to meet her eyes. "Why's that so bad?"

"Because," Lexie replies, "you shouldn't understand—there shouldn't be anything _to_ understand because I _shouldn't _have gone back. I should have stayed with you."

"You're staying with me now," Mark points out.

Lexie smiles delicately. "I am," she agrees. A few seconds later, her smile collapses under the weight of her knowledge of all she's done to him. She can see it in his face; he's trying to hide the fact that she's hurt him so many times in the past. But pain isn't a thing that can be easily hidden, especially from loved ones. "Are you ever going to trust me again?" Lexie whispers desperately, feeling like crying at all the pain she's caused him by trying to do what she thought was right.

"I trust you," Mark replies automatically, his forehead creasing at the anguish in her tone.

"Don't," Lexie orders over his answer. "Don't lie to me, don't try to make me feel better. Not about this. I need to know, right now: Are you ever going to trust me again?"

Mark sighs, closing his eyes and leaning forward until their foreheads are touching. "I trust you," he whispers, continuing before she can voice her protests. "Whether it's the best thing to do or even what I _want_ to do, I trust you. I trust you with my heart, with my life…" He sighs, but his lips flicker upwards slightly. "I just ask that you stop abusing the two so much."

"Mark," Lexie whispers, feeling tears clog her throat. He opens his eyes at the sound of her voice, his gaze looking right into her face.

"I hadn't meant to make you cry," Mark says, sounding put-out.

"It's not your fault," Lexie excuses. "It's mine. I'm so sorry for everything, for all that I've done to you." She wipes her face quickly before speaking again. "Just—just promise me you trusted me—for real, this time—when I said I was leaving him. Promise me you believed that."

"I did," Mark replies, resting his hand on her bare back and drawing her close. "I believed you."

It's a few seconds before Lexie can voice her fears. "Why?" She asks, voice cracking. "Why did you even bother believing me, after all I've done to you? After all the lies?"

"You haven't been lying to me." Mark smiles gently, kissing her softly. "And what else do I have besides you, anyway?"

Lexie stares at him, biting her lip at his words, but before she can speak, he continues.

"Anyway, it was years ago," Mark tells her. "You don't have to say you're sorry for everything that's happened all this time."

"I fee like I should," Lexie murmurs, looking at her hands.

"Yes, but you don't _have to_." He tilts his head, smiling with half his mouth. "You don't see me rushing into apologies."

"Please," Lexie mutters. "What do you have to apologize for?"

Mark's face breaks out in a full-fledged grin, his arm reaching out to pull her close. "Oh, how quickly you forget…"

"What?"

"Come on, Lex. I have my fair share of stuff to be sorry for."

"Name one," Lexie dares.

"I can name five," Mark counters.

"Oh, it isn't that big of a—"

"Sloane, the baby, Addison, Callie, Sofia…" He sighs, closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry for everything. I was the one who broke us up again and again—"

"What? No you weren't. _I _left."

"Yeah, but you only left because of what I did. It was my fault."

"I still left," Lexie mutters. "And don't be sorry for Sofia," she adds. "She's your daughter."

"She kept me from you." Mark's voice is firm, and Lexie sincerely hopes he hasn't been secretly resenting the little girl.

"No, _I _kept me from you," Lexie corrects him. "And it was stupid and childish of me. We could—we could have dealt with that. It wasn't like you were in love with Callie or anything. It was just a baby," Lexie murmurs, tucking her head against his chest and closing her eyes.

Mark stares at her, his gaze so serious it seems as if his eyes aren't blinking. It's a few seconds before he asks what's been on his mind since she told him. "Does…does he know?"

"About us?" Lexie's eyes open as she attempts to contain a yawn. "God, no."

"No, I…I meant…I meant about the baby," Mark whispers hesitantly, unsure if it's okay if he talks about it. But Lexie doesn't look perturbed as she shakes her head, lifting her face to look at him.

"No. I never told him. It wasn't…" Lexie glances down, breaking their eye contact. "It was my decision."

"He didn't know you were pregnant?"

Lexie shakes her head again, looking over to him and wondering what's on his mind.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

Lexie shrugs. "I don't know. It wouldn't have made a different if he knew or not. I didn't want to have a baby, and I guess…I guess I just wanted to pretend it never happened. So the less he knew the better, because things weren't going to change." She stares at him for a quiet minute, but when it's clear he isn't going to say anymore, she rests her head on the pillows.

"Could it…could it have been mine?" Mark asks softly, barely being able to get the words out. Lexie looks into his eyes, knowing exactly what it would mean to him if it were.

"No," she whispers, trying to keep her voice from faltering at the possibility. "It was a year or so ago, after…after we stopped sleeping together. But I…I knew it wasn't yours before I decided to give it up. If it was…" Lexie lets her breath escape from slightly parted lips. She gives him a small smile before looking away, embarrassed. "Never mind."

"What?" Mark asks. "If it was mine, what?"

"If it was yours, I…" She trails off, turning to see his face. "I would have kept it."

"You…would've?"

Lexie smiles softly, seeing the light in his eyes. "There wouldn't have been another option if it was yours."

"Even if you were with him?"

"Even if I was with him," Lexie replies firmly.

"You would have left him, then?"

"I don't think I would have been welcome," Lexie replies softly.

Mark's eyebrows rise in surprise. "You would have told him?"

"I couldn't keep up a lie like that. That's different," she adds quickly, knowing he was about to point out their current situation. "This would have been a baby. And it would be pretty obvious when the kid started looking like you and not him."

"But you said divorce…"

"I wouldn't have needed to," Lexie finishes for him. "I'm sure he would have beaten me to the punch with that one."

Mark pauses, thinking how to approach the topic, before deciding on just barreling into it. "You said you were raised not to accept divorce…" Lexie looks over at him, waiting for him to finish. "But Thatcher divorced Meredith's mother, didn't he?"

"It was my mother's belief," Lexie replies. She sighs, closing her eyes. "Just another way I'm letting her down."

"You aren't letting her down," Mark argues softly. "She'd be proud of you."

"Mark, I was raised to think that marriage is a _good_ thing. I was raised to believe that it should be cherished above everything else. And then _I_ got married myself and threw that belief in her face from day one. From _before _day one. And I'm about to break her cardinal rule."

"I still think she'd be proud of you."

"Why?"

"For finding someone you love. For staying with them despite…everything."

Lexie blinks slowly, digesting this and resting her head against his shoulder. "I guess," she replies. She closes her eyes, inhaling a breath before beginning. "My parents had plenty of problems with my dad's drinking," Lexie starts, "but my mother never even thought of leaving. At one point, he lost his job and went on a really bad bender. He ran out of whatever he was drinking and started going out to the garage, to the car. My mother tried to stop him, and he hit her." Lexie can feel Mark's arm tighten around her protectively. She opens her eyes with a sigh and looks away. "Just once, you know, and it wasn't a bad one. She didn't need stitches or anything and there wasn't any blood. It was just—" She mimics a light slap. "It was just that. And it didn't happen again. But my sister and I saw it and we asked why she didn't just go. Molly was scared there would be a repeat, and I wanted my mom to leave with us. He'd been drinking for a few days and we were all getting edgy. But all my mother did was look at us, smile, and say 'That isn't what a wife does.' She believed that marriage is forever. That it's a binding agreement and divorce isn't an option. You don't just run out on your husband because times are tough. 'Things always get better,' she'd said. She was right."

"Yeah, but times have changed," Mark replies after a moment. He pauses glancing down at her. "Is that why you didn't want to say yes? Because you—"

"Because I didn't think loving you was a good enough reason for leaving him?" Lexie finishes for him. "Yes," she replies quietly. "As much as I love you—and I do, I do love you—divorce has always been a last-ditch effort for me. It's for women being abused or mistreated or swindled. It's for women who need a way out of an awful situation. It's for women who have no other option. It's not…" Lexie looks away. "It's not for women who made the mistake or marrying someone they didn't love. It's not for women who aren't smart enough to think twice."

Mark nods, taking this in. "I guess I can see your side in it."

"Well, we're on the same side now."

Mark smiles. "That we are." He pauses, licking his lips nervously. "If I ask you something, will you promise not to lie to me?"

"Of course," Lexie replies.

"Did he hurt you?" Mark inquires quietly, seriously. "Did he hit you or—or do anything else?"

Lexie sighs, leaning her head against his shoulder. She should've seen this coming. He's always been protective. "No, he did not," Lexie replies, looking directly into his eyes. "He never touched Molly or me, and he never hit my mother again. He was…incredibly angry at himself when he realized what happened. So he just left—on foot. He came back late the next day and was completely sober. He'd gone to AA, we found out later. It was in a church; I guess he'd stayed there all day, even after it was over. I suspect he was praying for forgiveness, but I've never asked." She turns to look him in the eye. "He never hurt any of us, and never my mother twice. He's a good person, okay? He's changed."

"Sure," Mark replies easily. He can tell she doesn't want to talk about it, so he drops the subject.

Lexie closes her eyes, lost in thought. She exhales a large gust of air before speaking. "My mother would hate me for getting rid of that baby," Lexie admits. "She really would. She'd never forgive me."

Mark shrugs. "It wasn't her baby. She wasn't the one becoming a mother when she wasn't ready."

Lexie shakes her head. "No, I was ready. And that's what would have pissed her off. I was plenty ready, but I didn't want it, so I backed out and got rid of it. To borrow a phrase, I took the easy route out. And I'm not saying it was wrong to do…I'm just saying _she_ would have thought that."

"If you didn't want the baby then you weren't ready to have it, Lex. Just because you _think _you can be a mother doesn't mean you can be. Plenty of people balk when faced with the reality of kids."

"Would you?" Lexie asks softly.

"Would I what?"

"Would you balk at the reality of kids?"

Mark blinks at her, processing what's behind her question. "Us?"

"Yes, us."

"Now?"

"Not right now, but… I don't know, in the future? Do you not what that or…?"

Mark smiles, leaning down to kiss the worry away from her. "Of course I want that," Mark assures her.

"You want a baby?" Lexie smiles, curious. "You want children?"

"I want everything with you," Mark affirms. "And I want children with you because…" He sighs, closing his eyes slightly in embarrassment. "Then we'd always be together. Even if we were apart, there'd be proof that we _were_ together, that we loved each other enough to make a baby."

Lexie smiles to herself, biting her lip.

"What?" Mark asks, noticing the look in her eyes. "What'd I say?"

"Nothing, it's just that…" Lexie smiles, shaking her head at the similarities between them. "That's exactly what I thought to myself when I thought about having kids with him. I… I couldn't live like that, being tied to him that closely. But with you…" Lexie reaches up to hold his cheek in her hand. "With you, that's all I've ever wanted."

Mark leans forward, kissing her softly. "Good, then."

Lexie's silent for a few moments before admitting, "I wish it had been, though. The baby," she clarifies at the confused look on his face. "I wanted it to be yours."

"You—you did?" Mark asks, wondering why she'd want to risk the possibility after all he'd learned about her reticence towards ending marriages. "Why?"

Lexie sighs. "Because then, at least, I would have known this was real. What was happening between you and me. I would have known I wasn't dreaming."

"Yeah, but I feel like the ramifications would have made you hope you _were_ dreaming." He pauses, tilting his head towards her. "And can I let you in on a little secret?"

"Sure," Lexie replies.

"This is real," he whispers, leaning down and kissing her softly. "You aren't dreaming." Lexie lifts her head fully from his chest as she kisses him back. She draws his head towards hers with a hand on the nape of his neck. Mark moves swiftly to flip them over, settling his body above hers, kissing her deeply.

Lexie smiles into the kiss, her hands holding his face as close as possible. He ducks down, his lips moving from her mouth to her neck, sucking at the hollows above and below her collarbone. Lexie gasps at the feeling, her body arching up into his involuntarily, her breasts pressing against his chest as her hands hug his body closer. Their lips and tongues take turns exploring each other until Lexie pulls back a few minutes later, confused at the sound of his uneven breathing.

"Mark?" She whispers worriedly, tilting his head so she can look him in the eye. They haven't been doing anything long enough to elicit this kind of response, especially from him. "Baby, are you okay?"

He nods, but it's quick and jerky—intended to end the conversation. Lexie bites her lip at this, shifting to hold his face between both her hands and force him to look her in the eye.

"Hey," Lexie whispers, looking up at him and immediately knowing what's plaguing him. "It's okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here with you."

Mark nods again, but the wild look in his eyes hasn't left and his racing heartbeat hasn't slowed.

"I'm not leaving you," Lexie assures him, reaching up to kiss him softly. "I'm leaving him, not you. I'm not going anywhere. This isn't the end for us, okay? This is a beginning. This isn't like before. I love you, okay?"

When Mark speaks, his voice is dry, choked, as if he's been dehydrated for days. "I know."

"We don't have to do this," Lexie offers softly, her hands slipping from his neck to hold his cheeks as she shifts beneath him. She strokes his skin softly with her thumbs. "We can just—go to sleep. We can do this later; it's not that big of a deal. I don't care about this."

"No," Mark shakes his head. "No, I want to. I want _you_. I just…" He closes his eyes briefly, frustrated at not being able to put his thoughts and feelings into words.

"If you want me," Lexie whispers, her fingertips trailing up and down his sides and causing him to shiver, "then take me."

Mark's eyes widen at her hushed tone and the seductive nature of her words. "Lex…"

"Come on, Mark," she entices him. She leans upwards, kissing him languidly, knowing the soft encouragement he needs. "We aren't doing anything wrong, not anymore," she assures him. "I'm leaving him." Lexie reaches out, her fingertips tracing a delicate path from his temple to his lips. "Make love to me, Mark." Her fingers rest above his speechless mouth as she murmurs the next words. "Make me yours. Only yours."

He sighs slowly, closing his eyes and bending down until their lips touch. Mark whispers her words back to her before claiming her mouth lovingly as his. "Make me yours. Only yours."

. . .

_Wake me up,_

_Wake me up inside_

_Call my name and save me from the dark_

_Bid my blood to run_

_Before I come undone_

**_Save me from the nothing I've become_**

_. . ._

_Now that I know what I'm without_

_You can't just leave me_

**_Breathe into me and make me real_**

**_Bring me to life_**

_. . ._

_Frozen inside without your touch_

_Without your love, darling_

_Only you are the life among the dead_

_. . ._

**_I've been living a lie_**

_There's nothing inside_

**_Bring me to life_**

_. . ._

_All this time, I can't believe I couldn't see_

_Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me_

**_I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems_**

**_Got to open my eyes to everything_**

_. . ._

_Author's Note: So what'd you think? Please review and leave me your thoughts!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

_Author's Note: Warning! As the movies say, this chapter contains a 'scene of sensuality.' It's not much, but then again, I'm not very good at them, so I didn't want to push my luck (or the rating). Enjoy!_

. . .

_6 AM._

. . .

"Mm," Lexie yawns, stretching contentedly. She blinks at the overhead light, looking to her right and left for Mark. He's nowhere to be seen. "Mark?" Lexie calls, unable to keep an edge of panic out of her voice at his disappearance. "Where are you?"

"Bathroom," he calls back.

Lexie smiles in relief and embarrassment at her quick-to-spark paranoia, wondering if she'd imagined the slight laugh in his voice when he'd answered her. She smiles again, shaking her head at herself before getting to her feet and walking around the bed. She finds him, just as expected, in the bathroom. He's setting down his razor on the white countertop when she walks in. Mark smiles lovingly at her as she steps behind him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Morning," Lexie smiles back. She leans over, pressing a kiss into his neck, and feeling genuinely happy for the first time in years.

"Good morning," Mark replies, meeting her eyes in the mirror. His clear blue pupils seem to dance within their confines, brighter than Lexie's ever seen them. "Did you have a nice night?"

"It was wonderful," Lexie smiles, pressing a kiss to his skin again. "Thank you."

"I'm glad," Mark replies, staring at her for a moment before turning around within her embrace to face her. "You're all right?" He asks softly, looking her up and down with careful precision. "I didn't hurt you too bad or—"

"Don't be absurd," Lexie interrupts. She flashes him a brilliant smile, standing on her tiptoes to stretch her legs and kiss his mouth. "I feel deliciously sore."

Mark frowns, pulling away and looking down her body. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Did you not hear the word 'delicious?'" Lexie smiles. "That's a _good_ thing."

"I wanted this to be perfect," he continues, frowning and ignoring her reassurances. "And I was too rough with you."

She shakes her head, looking him in the eye. "Not possible."

"Lexie," Mark warns, staring back at her. "I'm serious here."

"So am I. You couldn't be too rough with me, Mark."

"I saw the way you winced last night," Mark argues, annoyed at himself for jeopardizing her well being just because he was feeling horny. He sighs, a self-loathing expulsion of air. "And I'm sorry. I should have stopped when you offered—"

"No, you shouldn't have." Lexie cuts in, holding him close. "That needed to happen last night, for both of us, and I am _immensely_ happy that it did." She gives him a small smile. "You remember when we were first together?" Mark nods. "I winced back then, too. It just takes some getting used to, especially if you haven't really...done it...in a while."

"A while?" Mark smirks. "Please, when was the last time _you_ had sex?"

"A year," Lexie admits.

Mark's face blanks. "What?"

"I haven't really—"

"Avery hasn't gotten laid in a _year_?" Mark interrupts with a laugh. "Good _god_, it's a wonder he didn't divorce _you_!"

"Mark!"

"I'm sorry," he chuckles. "But really? You haven't slept with him in that long?"

"I..."

"What?" Mark smiles, his laughter dying down as he wraps his arms around her as well.

"I didn't want to be with anyone but you," Lexie replies softly.

Mark smiles at her words before tilting his head to the side in wonder. "But we… Lex, we haven't been together in years," Mark reminds her. "Not like that."

"No, I know. I just…" Lexie looks down. "I don't know. I always thought of you and I didn't want… I mean, I just couldn't…" She sighs, raising her eyes to meet his. "I just wanted _you_, is all."

Mark smiles down at her. "I love you too."

"Good to know," she replies, smiling up at him, their lips meeting effortlessly.

. . .

_"I love you," he whispers, bringing their hips together in one fluid movement. Lexie sucks in a breath of air as he enters her, unable to hold back a small cry._

_"Oh!" She flinches, shutting her eyes tight at the intrusion._

_"Are you okay?" Mark asks worriedly, automatically freezing his movements within her. "Did I hurt you?"_

_Lexie shakes her head quickly, opening her eyes. "I'm fine. I just—need a moment. You're a lot bigger than..." Lexie trails off, feeling him stiffen further inside her. "Oh, stop being so cocky!" She calls, pushing on his shoulders with half-fake outrage. Mark grins at her outburst, feeling himself harden again at her words._

_"What?" He bends down, trailing kisses along her neck as he speaks. "I can't help it, and it's your fault anyway. Just stop talking like that and I'll be flaccid in a second."_

_Lexie shuts up, but flexes her interior muscles, gripping him tightly, and Mark's body does just the opposite of his words._

_"Oh, Jesus, Lex," he groans, burying his face into her neck as she squeezes him._

_"What?" Lexie smiles sweetly, her laughter tickling his ear. "I can't _**help**_ it," she mocks._

_"You liar," Mark grins back, taking the cue from her jokes that she's accustomed to his size by now. He lifts his head, studying her as he moves. He pulls out slowly before thrusting back in._

_"I'm not made of china, you know," Lexie complains at his overly gentle movements._

_"You may not be made of china," Mark concedes, "but you're still breakable."_

_"I'm not _**that** _breakable," Lexie argues. "Come on, Mark," she encourages, reaching up to thread her fingers in his hair. She arches her back towards him, loving the feel of their bodies touching, chest to chest, hips to hips, and skin to skin everywhere else. "I'm ready. I love you. Make me yours, now."_

_Her final sentence comes out like a dare, as if she had expected him to back down. But Mark Sloan never was one to shy away from a challenge. He makes this clear as he withdraws before pushing back in, unable to hide a grin as moan after moan escapes her throat and a few take flight from his as well._

. . .

"If I hurt you..." He trails off as they break apart a few seconds later, closing his eyes.

"This again?" Lexie asks with a groan. "_God_, it's not like you broke my arm or something! I am _fine_. And, what? If you hurt me, you 'wouldn't be able to forgive yourself?'" She mocks knowingly. He glances over to her; his guilty gaze letting her know she guessed right. "Well, then," Lexie begins. "You should still be repenting from when we were together."

Mark's head snaps up. "What?"

"Oh, don't 'what' me," Lexie replies with a smile. "We both know you're the king of sex injuries."

"Yeah, okay, that," Mark replies, holding up a finger. "_That _was different," he finishes, remembering their glory days with a faint air of pride.

Lexie crosses her arms, amused. "Oh, I'm _sure _it was different."

"It was!" He argues with a smile.

"Now, how was it different?"

"For one, I knew I was never really _hurting_ you."

"Just like you weren't last night," Lexie interjects.

"And two," Mark continues, ignoring her, "I knew that if I _did_ cause you pain, you'd recover. This was ten years ago—you were twenty-_four_, for Christ's sake, there was nothing I could've done to you that would've really hurt."

"Just like last night didn't really hurt," Lexie replies. "So you see—wait a second. Did you just imply that I was _old_?"

Mark shrugs, struggling to hold back a grin. "I implied you were young...a decade ago," he adds, ducking away from her shove.

"Mark Sloan!" Lexie calls, outraged.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he laughs, blocking her attacks.

"If _I'm_ old, then what are you?" Lexie taunts. "Ancient?"

"_Oh-ho_," Mark laughs. "I see how it is, Little Grey," he growls, ducking down and hoisting her over his shoulder.

"MARK!" Lexie screeches, hitting his back with open palms. "What the hell!"

"You called me ancient," Mark replies over his shoulder as he carries her out of the room. "Insults of that sort are _not_ to be tolerated. Plus, can an ancient person pick up a full grown woman like this?"

"Let me down!" Lexie calls, still hitting his back. "Put me down, you've made your point!"

"Okay," Mark replies easily, letting go of her and watching as she falls backwards onto the bed, half-screaming half-laughing. He grins, watching her plummet, but soon is joining her as she grabs onto the neckline of his shirt while dropping from his arms.

After she's pulled him down with her, Lexie twists them around until she's sitting on his lap, her legs spread out behind her, and his face a mere foot from hers.

"So," she begins, folding her hands over his bare torso, "sex injuries are practically _crimes_, but dropping your girlfriend right on the _floor_ isn't anything to worry about? No big deal?"

"I dropped you on the bed, not the floor," Mark replies. "It was all carefully planned," he finishes before a half-hidden smile lights up his face. "Girlfriend?" He clarifies.

"Well," Lexie smiles back, knowing he'd catch onto the title, and moving forward so their faces are just inches apart. "I thought that since I won't be anybody's wife in a few month's time, I should be your girlfriend instead. You know, go back to the beginning and everything."

"You wanna go out with me?" Mark jokes.

"Why yes," Lexie replies seriously. "I do." She pauses, staring at him with amused eyes. "So what do you say?"

"I say yes," Mark replies automatically. "I'll be your boyfriend. Again," he adds.

"And I'll be your girlfriend again."

"I love you, Lex," Mark whispers, leaning forward to meet her lips.

"I love you too," Lexie replies, slightly breathless as their lips fuse together. "So much."

Mark kisses her back automatically for a minute before opening his eyes and separating their lips. "Wait," he tells her.

"What?" Lexie complains, leaning forward even though he's pulling away.

"Wait, I have a very important question."

"Is it really more important than what's happening right now?" Lexie whispers, her lips attached to his neck.

"Well, it might be, depending on your answer."

"Fine," she sighs, pulling away to look him in the eye. "What is it?"

"If we're starting from the beginning, does this mean I get a repeat?"

"A repeat of what?"

"Of you showing up at my door and stripping off all your clothes," Mark grins.

Lexie lets out a loud and annoyed groan in response, ducking her head against his chest. "That's never going to go away, is it? You'll _never_ forget. You'll _never_ stop talking about it."

"What can I say?" He smiles, leaning down to kiss her head. "It was pretty memorable."

"It was stupid, is what it was," Lexie grumbles into his chest. "There was a huge chance it could've backfired spectacularly."

"But it didn't. And it wasn't stupid, it was smart. Brilliant, even." He grins. "And I liked it."

"Yes, I am very much aware of how much you _liked _it, Mark," Lexie snaps, lifting her head up. He tilts his head, pouting at her. "_Not_ happening," Lexie decrees, enunciating each word clearly. "Never happening. Not again."

"Oh, come on! What's there to lose this time? And you said go back to the beginning!"

"Yeah, and then what comes next? You want me to break your penis again?"

Mark's face goes white as a sheet, causing Lexie to giggle at him. "That is _not _funny," Mark warns her seriously when he can speak. "That is _not _a laughing matter. How would you feel if I…" He trails off, searching for an equivalent. "How would you feel if I broke your vagina?"

Lexie waves a hand. "Please. There's nothing you can break down there. And even if you _did_," Lexie replies, leaning towards him. "I wouldn't _care _because my _entire_ sense of self-esteem is not centered on one single _organ_."

Mark smirks at her obvious annoyance. "I'm not the only one, you know."

"Yes, I know," Lexie replies, kissing along the length of his jaw. "Men are idiots."

"And women are…" Mark closes his eyes at the sensation, trying to think of an adequate comeback while her hands begin wandering across his body. "…rude," he finally settles on.

Lexie moves backwards, pushing down on his shoulders so he'll lie back in bed. "Took you a while with that one, huh?" She asks, settling her body above his. "Clever."

"Your lips happen to be very distracting," Mark mutters, looking up at her. Lexie grins down at him.

"Hm…" She bends down towards him as his hands hold her hips in place above him. "What else can I distract you with?"

. . .

_ "Tell me a secret."_

_Mark glances over at her through the darkness, amused. 'Really?' his eyes seem to ask._

_"What?" Lexie smiles, catching his drift. "You don't have any?"_

_"Well, my biggest one is right here beside me…" He pauses, rolling his lips together as he debates whether or not he should tell her. He stretches his neck against the pillow behind him._

_"I'll tell you one if you tell me one," she offers._

_"Okay," Mark replies, turning his head to look at her. "Go."_

_"Well," Lexie replies, shifting her head on her own pillow to look him in the eye. "You're my secret, too, and…" Lexie smiles nervously, brushing some of her hair out of her face. "When I moved to Portland, I… I tried to find you a job at the hospital, at OHSU."_

_"What? Why? I have a job here."_

_"No, I know. I just… I missed you."_

_"Wait, you… You wanted me to come with?" Mark asks, grasping onto her words with astonishment. "_**Why**_?"_

_"I missed you," Lexie repeats, looking into his stunned eyes. "And I… I wanted you with me."_

_"I think that might've blown our cover," Mark replies softly._

_Lexie smiles. "I know," she shakes her head. "It was stupid of me."_

_"No, I think it was sweet of you," Mark argues softly. "Though it wasn't very well thought-out, it was still…"_

_"Stupid," Lexie finishes with a sigh. "It was a dumb idea." She flourishes her hand. "Hence it being a secret."_

_"Well, were there any positions?"_

_"As the Oregon Health and Science University?" Lexie asks with a skeptically raised eyebrow. "Seriously?"_

_Mark grins. "It was nice of you to try." His eyes soften, glinting slightly in the dark room. "It's nice to know you were thinking of me, for however brief a time."_

_"B—Brief a time?" Lexie repeats incredulously. "Are you kidding me?"_

_"What?"_

_"Mark." Lexie says his name slowly, shaking her head at his assumption. She shifts towards him, looking him in the eye. "Mark, you were _**always** _on my mind. You were the only one who never left. I thought about you all the time."_

_"I…was?"_

_"Of course you were. I even… I kept seeing you, you know, those first few weeks. Everyone I saw kind of looked like you. I think I was literally going crazy trying to find you."_

_"I was right here," Mark reminds her softly. "I never left."_

_"I know," Lexie replies quietly. "But I… I was terrified you would. I thought you would…" She bites her lip, looking to the ceiling to avoid looking him in the eye. "I thought that when I left, you would finally cut your losses, find someone else and…and move on without me."_

_Mark opens his mouth assure her that would never happen, but she doesn't see him and doesn't stop speaking._

_"And as fair as that would be, the idea—it—it terrified me, Mark. I worried like crazy each time I came back to Seattle because I couldn't stop thinking that I'd come back one year and you'd have a girlfriend or a fiancée or a _**wife**_or…" She sucks in a breath, reaching up to wipe her face quickly. "Or that you would've fall in love with someone else and you'd—you'd leave me behind."_

_"Lexie, honey…"_

_"The thought of you moving on without me… It kept me awake every night. And I know," Lexie's voice hardens and Mark knows she's directing her anger and fear inward, "I _**know **_it would have been more than fair for you to move on. It would have been what you _**should**_ have done. I _**know **_that. But I… I couldn't help myself from wanting just the opposite to happen." She finally returns her gaze to his, giving him a watery smile. "You have no idea how huge a relief it was to see you by yourself at Meredith's every time I came back. As awful as it seems, I wanted you all to myself."_

_"You have me all to yourself," Mark tells her softly._

_"I know. And you have me all to yourself. I'm all yours and only yours," Lexie replies, being able to finally smile as she realizes the words are true. "Okay, your turn," she says a moment later. "Secret. Go."_

_Mark takes a breath, staring into her eyes before speaking. "You said you wished your baby was mine?" He asks softly. She nods, staring back at him. "I've wished for…years…that Sofia was yours. Since the day Callie told me she was pregnant, I—I've wished it you who had come to me. I wished it was you telling me you were having my baby."_

_"Oh, Mark," Lexie whispers, her eyes wide._

_"Everything would have been so much simpler," he continues without meeting her eyes. "Even if you didn't want it, we would never have broken up over it. I wouldn't have let us. And if you _**had**_ kept it, then we might… We still might've been together all this time. We could have even had a child and—and a real life together by now." He finally looks over to her, blinking slowly. "I really loved you back then, you know that?"_

_"I do," Lexie replies, reaching out and stroking the curve of his face gently. "I've always known. And we're together now," she reminds him softly. "That's all that really matters."_

_"I know."_

_"We'll make a real life together. I promise we will."_

_"I believe you."_

. . .

"Okay," Lexie calls almost an hour later, untangling their limbs from one another. "Move, I gotta get up."

Mark grunts in response, his face pressed into a pillow.

"What?"

"Don't go," he repeats, turning his head to look at hers. "Stay in bed with me," Mark replies patting the vacant space beside him with an open palm.

"You've really gotta build up your stamina before you can go about making offers like that," Lexie laughs, getting to her feet.

"Shut up," Mark replies. "I got like one single hour of sleep last night. Anyone would be dead."

"Notice that I'm not," Lexie points out with a smirk. Mark frowns, narrowing his eyes. He opens his mouth to reply, but she speaks first. "Okay, now it's almost eight o'clock, so I really need to leave," Lexie informs him, pulling on her discarded clothes from last night. "I should have been at Mer's hours ago." Mark looks up as he hears her rummaging around, blinking the tiredness from his eyes.

"What are you going to do?" He asks, getting to his feet and pulling a pair of boxers on.

"I'm going to go to Meredith's." Lexie looks over her shoulder at him as she finishes getting dressed. "And then I'll go back to Portland and get an attorney."

"Will it be difficult?" Mark asks quietly as he moves to stand behind her. He rests his hands on her waist as if without a thought.

Lexie pauses, thinking. "I don't know," she says finally. "I guess we'll have to see."

"And you'll call me…and tell me when it's all over?" He asks hesitantly.

Lexie looks over her shoulder, meeting his eyes. "I'll call you the minute I get to Oregon," Lexie replies without hesitation, turning around to face him.

"You will?" He asks, surprised. Lexie nods, one of her hands drifting down to her waist to cover his.

"I'll call you when I get back, I'll call you when I tell him, and I'll call you when I serve the papers." Lexie pauses. "And I'll call you every day because I'll miss your voice." Mark smiles softly at this. "I'll call you every night because I'll miss the way you wish me a good-night." She tips her head forward, leaning her forehead again his. "I'll miss the sound of your voice and the way you talk. I'll miss _you_. So, yes, I will call you."

Mark smiles, tilting his head to the side to kiss her cheek softly. "I'll be waiting by the phone," he replies. A quiet minute passes before the pull apart, stepping out of each other's arms. He takes her hand, leading them both reluctantly to the door.

. . .

"Do you… Do you realize what today is?" Mark inquires quietly a minute later as they reach the front door.

"No," Lexie frowns. "What day is it?"

Mark shakes his head at her forgetfulness, leaning forward to kiss her softly. "It's Christmas," he murmurs against her lips. Lexie closes her eyes at his words, stepping forward and kissing him back as her hands hang onto his ribcage. She can feel his lips flick upward at her response, but he forces himself to break their contact a moment later despite her efforts to prolong it. "Lexie," he whispers, lifting a hand to hold her face a few inches from his. "It's okay."

"I can't leave you now," Lexie manages tearfully, hugging him to her. "I can't leave you alone on Christmas."

He smiles slowly at her. "You aren't leaving me. Not really."

"But I am," Lexie replies, biting the inside of her lip to try and control her tear ducts. "We're standing by your front door. I'm going back to Oregon."

"You were the one that said you had to go," Mark reminds her. "If you remember, I was happy staying in bed with you and never bothering to get up."

Lexie smiles, dropping her head forward until it rests against his chest. He sighs softly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "I knew I could get you to smile," he whispers into her hair.

"I'll miss you."

"I'm not far away," Mark replies. "You can always come back."

Lexie looks up, wiping her face quickly. "Do you mean that?"

He stares down at her. "Of course I do."

"Okay," Lexie whispers, taking a step back. "Okay. I have to go."

Mark nods, reaching for the doorknob. "You'll call?" He asks as he opens it.

"All the time," Lexie promises. She takes a breath, taking the first step outside his door. "This is it."

Mark nods, forcing himself to stay on his side of the door but looking her right in the eyes. "It is."

"I'll be back," she tells him. "I will and I—" She breaks off, closing her eyes as she shakes her head back and forth rapidly for a split-second. Mark stares at her, wondering what she's doing. He doesn't have time to ask, though, as in two quick steps, she's returned to his arms, covering his mouth with hers. "I love you," she says against his lips.

"I know," he replies through her desperate kisses. "Lexie," he manages, after finally tearing his lips from hers after many unsuccessful attempts. Her eyes snap open in surprise, shocked that he'd pulled away. He chuckles slightly, staring down at her. "As much as I want to continue this, you have to go, dear."

"I don't want to."

"I don't want you to, either," Mark agrees. "But this has to happen if you're going to come back permanently."

Lexie takes a deep breath before releasing it slowly. "Okay," she whispers again, taking a step back. She adjusts the purse on her arm. "I'll be going now."

Mark nods, knowing she isn't expecting a response. She's only speaking aloud so she can follow her own instructions.

"Good-bye," she tells him softly, reaching out her right hand tentatively towards him. Mark takes it, squeezing her fingers momentarily before moving forward and bringing her hand to his lips. He kisses her knuckles softly before lowering her hand and then finally letting it drop gently back to her side.

"Good-bye, love," he whispers, watching her go. He meets her eyes each and every time she looks over her shoulder, and he reluctantly heads back inside the now-empty apartment when the elevator doors close before her.

. . .

**_The Space Between what's wrong and right _**

**_Is where you'll find me: hiding, waiting for you._**

**_The Space Between your heart and mine_**

**_Is the space we'll fill with time._**

. . .

_Author's Note: Not going to lie, so much happened in the last couple chapters that even _I _forgot it was Christmas. Review please and tell me what you think. :)_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reviewing!_

. . .

_8.20 AM Christmas Morning_

_. . ._

Lexie opens the front door of Meredith's house quietly, hoping she can slip inside unnoticed. That belief doesn't last long.

"Hey, Lex. How's Thatcher?"

"What?" Lexie asks, almost jumping at the sound of her husband's voice.

"Your dad," Jackson smiles. He's taking a sip from the mug in his hand as she turns to face him. "How is he?"

"Oh, he's…" Lexie closes her eyes briefly and hopes this is her last series of lies. "He's good."

"You slept there, I take it?" He asks, eyeing her clothes from the previous day.

"Oh," Lexie replies. "Yeah, I did, sorry. It got really late, and I figured I'd just…stay. I didn't want to drive back that late. Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine."

"Did you sleep okay?" Lexie asks, eyeing him as he yawns before taking another sip of what she guesses is coffee.

"Oh, no, I was fine," Jackson replies, waving a hand. He glances around. "That is, until Zola went pounding down the stairs at five AM."

Lexie cringes. "Five?"

Jackson shakes his head. "Derek and Meredith really need to stop waking her up before they go into work. It's having a bad effect on her sleeping schedule. And mine."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I've got coffee. So," he continues, changing the subject with a yawn. "You think we should head to the airport around two? Plane leaves at three, I think. You'll be ready by then?"

Lexie glances to her watch. "It isn't even eight-thirty in the morning," she replies with a smile. "You really think it's going to take me over five hours to repack a suitcase?"

Jackson shrugs. "Who knows? You're always a little slow to leave Seattle."

Lexie stares at him, tensed for any mentions of Mark, but as always, they don't come. He suspects nothing. Instead, he smiles at her once before heading back to the Shepherd's kitchen.

"Zola's been waiting to open the presents from us until you got here," he calls over his shoulder as he refills his mug.

"Well," Lexie replies, following after him and trying to leave her nerves behind. "Then I suppose we shouldn't keep her waiting."

Jackson grins, turning around to look at her. "I was hoping you'd say that. She's in by the tree," he says, tilting his head towards the living room, "with Meredith and Derek." Lexie nods, heading towards the adjoining room. And as much as she wants to be somewhere else, with someone else, Lexie puts a smile on her face, walks through the door, and enjoys Christmas with her family.

. . .

While Lexie spent her holiday morning and afternoon at her sister's, Mark spent the entire day at Callie and Arizona's house with his daughter. He would have much rather stayed at home and waited for her to call him—like a boy-crazed teenage girl, he was well aware—but Callie and her wife had forced him to spend the day acting happy and lively. Which, oddly, despite his distance from her—was not hard to fake. At times, he even caught himself smiling or laughing for no reason. Callie would catch his eye every once and a while and shake her head with a smile. He just shrugged in return, continuing on with whatever conversation or game Sofia had enlisted him into.

. . .

_3 PM_

_. . ._

_L: I'm boarding the plane._

_M: Going back so soon?_

_L: Sorry. I wish I could've seen you before I left._

_M: Don't worry about it. Just hurry back._

_L: I will._

. . .

_5 PM._

_. . ._

"Good to be home, right?" Jackson asks, looking over his shoulder at his wife as unlocks their front door. She nods at him, offering a weak smile and stepping over the threshold. She glances around inside the house, noting that it's just as they'd left it, but Lexie Grey is not met with a comforting feeling. _This isn't home, _she thinks sadly. _Not anymore._

_. . ._

"Hey, are you all right?" Callie asks as she walks him to the door an hour after dinner.

"All right?" Mark asks, pulling on his coat. He smiles at her. "Why wouldn't I be all right?"

"Because of that," Callie replies, pointing at his face. She shakes her head again, but he can see the quiet happiness beneath the gesture. "I can't remember the last time I saw you smile."

"I smile all the time," Mark replies, trying not to let his paranoia get the better of him.

"No," Callie argues, opening the door and stepping outside into the night with him. "You _fake_-smile all the time. Today you really smiled. What is it? What's going on with you?"

"Nothing, Cal. It's—you know, it's Christmas. Can't a guy be happy around the holidays?" He asks, surreptitiously checking his iPhone.

Callie's eyes widen as a grin spreads across her face. "That's it!" She exclaims excitedly.

"What?" Mark replies, quickly hiding his phone. There aren't any messages, anyway. Nothing she could have seen. "What's it?"

"That's why you keep checking your cell," Callie replies. "You've met someone!"

Mark rolls his eyes, but even he can't completely hide a smile. And Callie was right, it was genuine. "I didn't meet anyone."

"Aw, are you waiting for her to call?" Callie coos. "That's adorable, Mark." She grins at him. "Come on, you have to tell me who it is! I want to know!"

"Yes, I know you want to know," Mark replies, heading down her front walk. "But I've gotta get back home."

"To _what_?" Callie calls after him.

Mark looks at her as if she's crazy. "Well, to my imaginary girlfriend, of course," he replies. "You know, Cal, your mind is really going with age. We were just talking about this two seconds ago." He swirls his index finger around his ear. "You should talk to Derek about that."

"Oh, shut it," she says watching him go. "I want to meet her, you know!" Callie shouts as he heads into his car. "You can't hide her away forever!"

"I hope I won't have to," Mark mutters to himself as he unlocks the car, waving to his friend before closing the door.

_. . ._

"Hey," Lexie says softly, sidling up to her husband as he finishes unpacking. Jackson looks over to her and smiles.

"Hey. What's up?"

"What? Nothing."

"You look like there's something on your mind," Jackson points out, tossing a heap of clothes into their hamper.

"I…" Lexie takes a deep breath. "There is something on my mind." _Here we go_, she thinks, mentally preparing herself. _You can do this._

"So? What is it?"

Lexie reaches up, brushing her hair out of her face subconsciously. "It's, um, kind of a… It's important." Jackson looks at her pointedly, waiting for her to continue. "You see, I've—I've wanted to talk to you about this for a while. I, um, I think that we need to—"

"One sec," Jackson interrupts as his pager vibrates in his pocket. He glances down at it quickly. "Shit. I have to go in."

"But—but it's a holiday," Lexie protests. "And this is important!"

"Well, why don't you tell me quickly?" Jackson asks, grabbing his jacket and keys from across the room.

"It's… It's not the sort of thing that I can tell you quickly," Lexie replies nervously.

"Well, then, I promise we'll talk when I get back, okay?" He passes by her on the way to the door, stopping to kiss her quickly. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go." He misreads the pained look on her face. "I know it's important, okay? I'll be back, and we'll talk about it then. You'll have my full attention, I promise," he calls before shutting the door.

Lexie exhales quietly, out of relief or irritation, even she isn't sure. She lets her eyes fall closed, promising herself she'll do better next time.

. . .

_8 PM._

_. . ._

"Merry Christmas," a female voice calls happily as Mark enters his building. He freezes automatically, but immediately realizes it isn't _her _voice. He turns around anyway, looking over his shoulder as he hits the button for the elevator. The building's receptionist-slash-doorwoman is smiling at him, waiting for a response.

"Hey, Tara," he replies, glancing to the young woman. "Merry Christmas to you too."

"Are you doing anything special for the holidays?"

"What? Oh, I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" She asks with a smile. "What, you don't have a girlfriend or anything to spend it with?"

"Well, I…" He trails off when he feels his cell vibrate in his pocket. He grab for it quickly, grinning when he sees the name _Lexie Grey _appear on the screen. He glances up to the woman behind the desk as he hears the elevator _bings_ its arrival. "You know what, Tara, I do. And I'm sorry, but I have to take this."

"Don't worry about it," she smiles as she waves him off. "Have a nice night."

"You too," he replies just as the door close. He answers his the phone as soon as he's alone in the lift. "Hey, Lex."

"I tried telling him but he had to run out to a surgery," Lexie grumbles by way of greeting.

"On Christmas?"

Lexie sighs. "On Christmas. Hey back."

"Well that…sucks," he says, trying to sound sympathetic without feeling anything at all.

Lexie chuckles at his uncertain tone. "For me or for him?"

"Both?" Mark replies with a smile, stepping off on the fifth floor and walking to his door. "And it's not that big of a deal," he continues, unlocking it and stepping inside.

"Well, of course it's a big deal. I have to tell him."

"I know you have to tell him, but… Lex, it's still Christmas. You might… You might just want to wait a bit. Until the holidays are over?" He suggests.

"I…" Lexie swallows, wishing she were able to see and read his face. "I'm sorry, are you trying to get me to back out of this? After everything that happened last night?"

"No, I'm not, it's just…"

"Then what?"

"Are you sure you should tell him _now_? It's Christmas, Lex."

"I know what day it is."

"Okay, so I know you're worried about how hard this will be on him… You want to compound that by doing it _on_ a holiday? Especially one like Christmas? It's not like this Halloween, babe. People _like _Christmas."

"I know what Christmas is," Lexie replies impatiently. "I just… I need to tell him. I need to get this over with."

"I understand that, but I think it might come off as…well, kind of cruel."

"Cruel?" Lexie repeats dubiously.

"Yes, cruel." Mark sighs, sitting down on his couch. "The guy's already losing his wife; you don't need to ruin Christmas for him too."

Lexie closes her eyes in thought. "I just want to get this over with," she restates. "And I'm the one telling him, not you. So, just… Let me do it my way, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Mark concedes easily. "Do it your way."

Lexie frowns, looking to her watch worriedly. _Where is he?_

"So, uh, how was your day?" Mark asks, feeling the need to move away from the topic of potential divorce. He's half-afraid the more he mentions it, the less she'll actually want to go through with it.

"It was good. I just stayed at Meredith's all day and played with Zola. We got her a doll."

"Let me guess…" Mark grins. "You got her Anatomy Jane?"

"Actually," Lexie replies with a chuckle. "Meredith beat us to the punch with that one. But we got her Anatomy Joe, which I think is almost as good."

"You get the one with all the removable parts?"

"She's my niece, you think I'm not gonna spring for the removable parts?"

"You're a good aunt," Mark chuckles. "I bet she liked it; she's always trailing Meredith and Derek at the hospital on her days off school, asking about this and that during their surgeries."

"Oh, she _loved _it. I think Joe and Jane will be getting married in a few days. I hope no one loses a spleen over it."

"Yes, because spleens are so useful," Mark replies with a smile. "Hey, I just realized—the receptionist wished me a 'Merry Christmas'—and I forgot to do the same to you when you left this morning. So… Merry Christmas."

"It's okay. At least you _knew _it was Christmas. And Merry Christmas to you, too," she adds.

"Well, I can see why you were preoccupied."

"Yeah." She bites her lip, remembering everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. "Hey, Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"I…I wanted to apologize for what I said last night."

"For what you said? What'd you say?"

"I…called you an asshole," Lexie replies, feeling guilty repeating it. "I didn't mean it."

"I believe the term was 'arrogant asshole,'" Mark corrects her. She can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "And it's okay. I'm sorry I was acting like one."

"No, you weren't. I was just angry and—and frustrated…"

"I pushed you too hard," Mark concludes.

"No, you didn't."

"Lex, you were _screaming_ at me. You don't scream. I definitely pushed too hard."

"You pushed hard enough," Lexie corrects. "And the only reason I was shouting was because I was upset, and it wasn't because of what you were doing. It was…just the whole situation."

"That's nice of you to say, but I'm pretty sure the reason you were shouting was because I was pissing you off."

"Okay, fine," Lexie smiles. "You were a contributing factor."

"I _was _the contributing factor."

"You're really trying to make this all about you, aren't you?"

"It's _always _all about me," Mark smiles. "And if we're apologizing here—you should know that I am…" He sighs slowly. "I am _truly _sorry I ever tried to say you didn't love me. It was a lie. I didn't mean it."

Lexie bites her lip, blinking quickly.

"Lex?" Mark asks after a few quiet seconds. "You there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I am," she replies hurriedly. "I, um, I know you didn't mean it. You don't have to apologize, either."

"I think I do," he responds softly, half-wishing he could see her face. "Are…you alright?"

Lexie shakes her head rapidly, as if her were there, sitting in front of her. "No, no, I'm fine." She tries regulating her voice. "I'm fine, but, um, thank you for saying that."

"I felt like I had to." _And I'm glad I did_, he thinks, realizing it probably meant more to her than it did to him. He'd said it in anger—it hadn't meant anything, really—but she had no doubt taken it at face value. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Lexie replies, her voice back to its normal pitch after a moment. "Thank you."

"Hey, you know—"

"Lexie?"

She jumps at the sound of her husband's voice, quickly explaining it to Mark. "I've got to go," she tells him hurriedly. "I'm sorry; he just got back."

"Okay," Mark replies easily. "Call me if you need me."

"Don't say that," Lexie warns him quietly. "Your phone bill will be through the roof."

"Worth every penny," Mark says replies as they hang up.

. . .

"Hey, you're back," Lexie calls, walking to the front door.

"Yeah," Jackson yawns, closing the door behind him.

"How was surgery?"

"Ugh," he groans. "Awful. It should've taken an hour, but the patient kept coding and then—"

"It took three hours," Lexie finishes for him.

"I'm sorry," he replies, frowning down at her. "I kind of ruined Christmas, didn't I?"

_Not as much as I'm going to_, Lexie thinks guiltily, suddenly seeing the logic behind Mark's words.

"No, no," she replies with a smile. "Christmas was great. You should get some sleep, though."

"Oh, wait," Jackson mutters, yawning and looking over to her. "You had something important to tell me?"

Lexie shakes her head. "It can wait. Come on," she says, leading him towards the bedroom. "You should sleep."

. . .

Lexie had promised herself she'd do better 'next time'—and next time came just a few days later. By the time Jackson had gotten home from his surgery on Christmas night, it was much too late to tell him. He'd been exhausted, anyway. But this time, Lexie decides to be more direct, to get right to the point. "I've been meaning to talk with a lawyer."

"A lawyer?" He asks, glancing up from that paper worriedly and meeting her eyes. "Are you being sued? Why didn't you tell me?"

"No, I—I'm not being sued."

"So, then… What's the lawyer for?"

"It's…" Lexie swallows. "It's a divorce lawyer."

"Divorce?" Jackson questions. His eyebrows draw together in blatant confusion. "Who's getting divorced?"

"We…" Lexie sighs softly. _Jesus. I can't do this_. "Um, just—just someone from Seattle," she lies hurriedly. _You chickenshit, _she thinks angrily. _Just tell him who it is._

"It isn't Meredith and Derek, is it?" He asks worriedly. "Because—"

"No," Lexie replies quickly. "No, they're fine. It's—"

"Well, that's a relief," he smiles. "I mean, they've been married almost as long as we have." He chuckles. "That'd be crazy right? If they got divorced after all that time?"

"Yeah," Lexie mutters. "Crazy." She turns around, bracing herself on the kitchen counter before her. _You idiot! Just tell him!_

"Hey, Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you want to talk with the lawyer?"

"Oh," Lexie says, thinking quickly as she turns around. "My, uh, friend from Seattle needed some kind of, um, character reference or something."

"Oh." He pauses. "Who was it? The person who's getting divorced?"

"Just… Just an old friend. A girl I knew from high school."

He frowns. "Well, I'm sorry about your friend," Jackson replies. "Divorce sucks."

"Yeah," Lexie sighs, turning back around and shutting her eyes. "It does." _It really does._

_. . ._

After another failed attempt at telling Jackson the truth, Lexie decided it was better to get a head start on the legal proceedings. She began researching lawyers in the Portland area any time she had a spare moment, and soon she came up with what looked like a good list. She just had to narrow it down to one, and after a few days, even that was accomplished. _All that's left to do is face the facts, _Lexie thinks, palming her cell in her hand. _You've gotta call. You have to do this._

. . .

"Hi, I'm Whitney Palmer." The lawyer extends her hand, causing a pair of gold bracelets to jangle on her wrist. Lexie takes her hand, shaking it once before letting it drop as she announces her name. She stares at the woman in front of her as she takes a seat. Short, straight, white-blonde hair falls to just below her chin. Lexie can't stop staring at her, and her eyes cannot move away from the woman's face. Despite having scheduled the appointment, driven herself to the lawyer's office, and now having met with the attorney… Lexie can't quite believe this is happening. _Divorce lawyer._ She closes her eyes briefly. _Oh, god, what would my mother think?_

_She's be proud of you_, her memory reminds her. Her eyes snap open at the words, but Mark's nowhere near.

"You alright?" Whitney asks kindly, taking a seat in one of three plush leather armchairs in her office and straightening her dark skirt and white blouse as she sits. The concerned tone of her voice suddenly reminds of the nurse she saw before getting rid of the baby.

_You all right, honey? You sure you want to do this?_

"I'm fine." Her go-to response. She plasters a smile on her face. "I'm good."

"Alright, then." She clicks her pen, adjusting the yellow legal pad in her lap. On the left side of the first line she writes, _Lexie Grey. _One the right side she writes, _Reasons for divorce. _Lexie watches her movements with a curious eye._ Lawyers actually use legal pads? _She wonders. "Do you mind if I tape this?" The attorney asks, brandishing a small recording device. "I can't always write as quick as people talk."

"No problem," Lexie replies, knowing she'll probably end up needing it. She's always been a fast talker, and that trait is only amplified when she's nervous or ashamed. Those two emotions are currently battling it out for domination of her psyche.

"Start from the beginning." Whitney smiles up at her in what Lexie assumes should be a reassuring manner. It's probably just her imagination twists what must be perfect white teeth into a shark's mouth. "Whenever you're ready."

_She's here to help you, _Lexie reminds herself. _You can trust her._

"Right," Lexie murmurs. She waits for the words to come, but they don't. The lawyer sits across from her, patient as can be even though they're wasting precious time. And money. _Great job, Grey, _she berates herself. _Way to pick one of the most expensive lawyers in the city and then waste her time. She probably even came in on her break to see you and now you're—_

"Would it help if I asked some questions?" Whitney asks after a few silent minutes.

Lexie lifts her head, her eyes focusing on the woman across from her instead of her hands. "What?"

"You seem nervous, reticent." That kind smile appears on her face again. "That's understandable, and I'm used to seeing it, considering the type of cases I work on. Sometimes I find that, if a client isn't quite…_forthcoming _with their story, it helps to ask questions. To make it seem like they're having a conversation instead of just pouring out their life story to a virtual stranger."

"Okay," Lexie replies quietly.

"Alright, we'll start simple, then. Your husband's name?"

"Jackson Avery."

Whitney nods, writing this down. Her downturned face doesn't show the smallest hint of acknowledgement. _But they're trained for that, _Lexie realizes worriedly. _Just like us, they're trained not to show emotion or recognition. What if she knows him? _But Lexie buries that thought immediately. It wouldn't matter either way if she did or didn't now him—there was no way she'd tell. _Trust her._

"And how long have you been married?"

"Six years." _Six. Years. _Lexie thinks. _Jesus._

"Any children?"

"No." Whitney glances up when she hears the firmness in her client's tone, but doesn't question her. _Desire for children? _appears on the right side of the list.

"So we won't need to discuss child support or custody arrangements…"

Lexie shakes her head in agreement, but suspects the attorney was simply speaking to herself as she checks through a mental list.

"Do you have any complaints about your marriage that I should contact the police about? Domestic disputes, abuse, violence…" Whitney trails off, looking her in the eye.

"No." Lexie tries to control the scandalized air in her voice. "Of course not," she adds, feeling the need to defend her husband just a bit. She was an idiot when it came to love, sure, but she'd never marry someone who would physically hurt her. She wasn't _that _thickheaded.

"Your reason for wanting a divorce has nothing to do with the police? No crimes of any kind?"

"No," Lexie replies. _But it's technically a crime to some people, isn't it? _Lexie thinks after a moment. _If this were Taliban-controlled Afghanistan, I'd probably already be stoned to death for being guilty of adultery. Mark, too. And then—_

"Anything to do with financial or residency issues?"

"No." _People divorce each other just to get a _house_? Aren't there more important things?_

"Alright, does you reason for wanting a divorce concern fidelity issues? Adultery of any kind?"

Lexie stares at her, suddenly feeling her mouth run dry. It's a few seconds before Whitney looks up, catching Lexie's eye and the frozen look on her face. She writes down _adultery _quickly before setting down her pen. _Thank god for tape recorders, _she thinks, blessing the inventor that allows her to focus solely on her client without distractions.

"Ms. Grey?" She asks quietly.

"Doctor," Lexie corrects automatically. "I'm a surgeon."

Whitney nods her head. "Of course. Dr. Grey. …Dr. Grey, does your reason for calling this meeting have to do with issues concerning fidelity between you and your husband?"

Lexie takes a deep breath. _You can do this. _"Yes."

Whitney leans forward in her chair. "Now, we have what's called no-fault divorce in Oregon, which essentially means you don't need a legal reason to get divorced… But do you have proof? I'm sorry to ask, but I need to know; we might have to use it in the proceedings."

"What?" Lexie asks, confused. "Proof of what?" _Proof that I've been sleeping with Mark? Just look at me!_

"Proof that your husband has been…" She pauses and Lexie wonders if the delay in finishing the sentence is supposed to show sympathy to those with adulterous spouses. _If so, she should try it on Jackson. _"…Unfaithful."

Lexie shakes her head. Her mind twists in confusion. She thought it was obvious when she walked in the polished wooden office. _Couldn't she see I've been the unfaithful one? Didn't I just scream 'adulterer?' Isn't it stamped on my forehead after all this time?_

"That's fine," Whitney continues. "Like I said, we don't need proof in Oregon courts—"

"It was me," Lexie cuts in quietly. She closes her eyes. _Oh, god._ _Did I really just say that? I didn't just say that._

"What?"

"He wasn't the unfaithful one," Lexie continues before she can stop to think about what she's saying. "I—I cheated. I'm unfaithful. It was me." She exhales softly, suddenly feeling incredibly relieved. _I just said that. Oh, god, I just said that. I just told someone. A real person. A lawyer. Divorce. I'm getting divorced._

"I'm sorry," Whitney interrupts, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. "Did you just say you were the one that committed adultery? And you want a divorce?"

"I can still divorce him, can't I? You said I didn't need a legal reason."

"Well, yes, but…"

"But what?" Lexie asks, suddenly panicking that this could all go wrong.

"Well…" Whitney's tongue darts out to moisten her lips. "Are you sure he won't try to divorce you first?"

"If he did, I'd need you as my lawyer either way, so does it matter?"

"It matters if you're serving papers." She stares at Lexie. "You _are _serving papers, aren't you?"

"That's what I was planning on when I walked in here."

"Right, well, usually I'd say that's fine, go ahead… But with this… It seems your husband might have more cause to divorce you than you do…"

Lexie feels terror clench her abdomen. "Are you saying I can't divorce him?"

"No, of course you can divorce him," Whitney assures her again. "It doesn't matter who cheated, legally, except that if he wants a divorce as well, this could become a lot more complicated than it needs to be."

Lexie's forehead creases in confusion. "Well, if I want a divorce and he wants a divorce, won't that just end up in…divorce?"

"Yes, it will, but if he tries to go after you in court—seeing as he's technically the victim here—he could stand to gain a lot more from these proceedings than you would. I'm afraid the court officials would side with him."

"I don't care."

"I'm talking about property, Dr. Grey. The splitting of assets. _Money_."

"I don't care," Lexie repeats. "He can have whatever he wants. I just want the divorce."

Whitney looks at her with disbelieving eyes. "You're telling me that if he decides to file against you, you will let him take any or all of your joint assets, no questions asked? No recourse on your part?"

"Like I said," Lexie repeats firmly, "all I want is the divorce."

Whitney sits back in her chair. "Well… All right, then." She picks up her pad again, scribbling the words, _What the __hell__? _across the top. _This certainly is an odd case, _she thinks. "You should probably tell me about the infidelity now, just so I'm clear on all the facts…" _When this inevitably blows up in my face, _Whitney finishes mentally.

"What do you need to know?" Lexie asks warily.

"Ideally, everything," Whitney replies, flipping over a new sheet in her pad. She writes _affair _on the top line. "When did it start?"

"About eight years ago."

Whitney looks up. "You said you'd been married for six years."

"It started eight years ago," Lexie repeats. Whitney dutifully writes down the answer, keeping her thoughts and expressions to herself. "In Seattle."

"This happened out of the state?"

"Not when it began. We used to live in Seattle. Jackson and I, we moved a few years after we got married. Does that matter?"

"You've lived here for more than six months?" Whitney clarifies. Lexie nods. "Then, no it doesn't matter."

"Okay."

"So, just to check, you've been with someone else since before you were married to…" She flips her notes back. "Jackson Avery?"

"Yes."

"What was the nature of this affair? Purely sexual or…"

Lexie shakes her head, embarrassed at being scrutinized like this by a stranger. "No, not—not purely. There, um, there were other—other aspects to it, as well."

Whitney nods without looking up from her notes. "So the affair was both emotional and sexual?"

"Yes," Lexie replies, surprised at the lawyer's clinical tone. _It's as if we're discussing weather, _she thinks incredulously._ 'So the clouds were both numerous and produced rain?'_

"From what I can gather from your presence here, it's still going on?"

"Yes."

"How often do you see each other?"

"Um… Holidays, mostly. During the fall and winter. But when… when we lived it Seattle…"

"The visits were more frequent?" Whitney guesses. "How frequent?"

"Well, we worked together. We saw each other every day."

"The visits," Whitney reminds her. "How frequent were they?"

Lexie closes her eyes. "A few times a month. Sometimes… Sometimes it even got up to once a week. For—for a month or so, I saw him every week."

"And you're sure your husband doesn't know?" Whitney questions. "He couldn't be planning to divorce you right now?"

Lexie shakes her head. "He would have said something. We—we all worked together. He wouldn't have hidden the fact that he knew." _He wouldn't have been able to._

"I'm sorry," Whitney presses again. "But at some point in your relationship with him, you were seeing this other man on a weekly basis. You're saying your husband didn't take notice? Never suspected anything?"

"He's a doctor, too," Lexie replies. "We're quite… We have busy schedules. We didn't always…see a lot of each other." _Right, _Lexie thinks, annoyed at herself._ Cause you were with Mark._

"I see."

"And the—the times when it was a weekly thing, that didn't last long. It wasn't—wasn't all the time. It was just a month."

Whitney nods, making a mental note of this before continuing. "…And this other man, he has a name, I presume? I haven't heard you mention one…"

"He has a name," Lexie concedes after a slight pause.

"Dr. Grey, if he's brought up in the proceedings, I'd like to know who we're talking about. I need to know his name for me to be able to do that."

"Mark. His name is Mark."

"Last name?"

Lexie bites her lip, looking away. Whitney smoothes her skirt as she leans forward, towards her client. "Dr. Grey, I can understand that it can be difficult to admit these sorts of things… But I really need to know everything that I can here."

"You're going to talk to him?" Lexie inquires uneasily.

Whitney shakes her head, causing her straight blonde hair to swish from side to side. "Not unless it's completely necessary."

"I'd prefer if he was left out of this," Lexie tells her firmly. "I really… I really don't want him dragged into it all if he doesn't need to be."

"Well, I'll try my best, but there's no saying how your husband will approach this issue."

"But you," Lexie presses. "You'll leave him out of this? You'll leave him alone?"

"Dr. Grey," Whitney begins. She opens her mouth, but pauses, as if reconsidering her train of thought. She speaks a moment later. "How about this: If I need to speak to him for some reason, I will contact you first to see if it's okay, alright?"

Lexie nods. "Okay."

"Now. His name? I promise not to call without your permission," she adds.

"Thank you," Lexie sighs. She closes her eyes briefly, resting her fingertips along her hairline at her forehead. "Mark Sloan. He lives in Seattle, works at Seattle Grace-Mercy West Hospital. I don't think you need to know anything else."

"If I do, I'll come to you."

"Okay."

"Does anyone else know about the affair? Anyone he could contact to get information from once you file suit?"

Lexie bites her lip. "I'm not sure. My sister and her husband… I have a feeling they know. Neither of them have come out and said it to me, but…"

Whitney nods. "You have a feeling. Their names?"

"Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd."

"You aren't going to contact them, either, are you? Because I'm still not sure if they—"

"Just tell me when you're sure they know. If I need to, I'll get in touch with them after then. But I don't think I'll be needing to speak with anyone besides you and your husband."

"Okay."

. . .

Whitney smiles up at Lexie a few minutes later. She's finished the last of her notes and stopped the recorder. "Alright, Dr. Grey—"

"You can call me Lexie," she interrupts. "I mean… You—you know everything now, you can use my first name."

Whitney smiles at her. "Okay, Lexie. I'll look over this and draw up some documents. If you think you're ready, I'll be able to send them out as soon as they're finalized, which shouldn't take long, just a week—maybe even a few days if it's hurried. Once your husband receives them, he'll have thirty days to respond or risk a default judgment. He'll want to avoid that, so I think he'll reply pretty soon. After that, if he gets a lawyer, all four of us can discuss whether or not negotiations would work better for this case."

"Okay," Lexie replies, only taking in about half of her words. _Timeline. Good. Now I just have to tell him._

"It'll be all right," Whitney smiles at her obvious distraction.

Lexie smiles tightly back. "Right. I know."

_. . ._

"Hello?"

"I met with a lawyer."

"Lexie?"

"Yeah," she replies, walking down the street to her car. "Hi."

"Hey," Mark greets her. "So… How did it go?"

"Fine. I'm going to serve papers and then she said he'd respond within a month."

"You've told him, then? Are you…okay?"

Lexie closes her eyes, embarrassed even though she knows he can't see her. "I'm fine, but I… I haven't had the chance to tell him." Lexie reaches in her purse to get her keys and unlock her car. "I… I tried, but I couldn't…" Lexie closes her eyes, leaning against the side of her car. "I started talking about it and his face didn't change, Mark." She bites her lip, not knowing what to do. "He didn't show any recognition. He doesn't—he doesn't see this coming at all. I'm completely blindsiding him."

"He'll see it coming when those papers show up on his doorstep."

"Right," Lexie sighs, opening the car and getting in the driver's seat.

"If you want to say it first, you'd better tell him soon."

"I know."

There's a pause on the line.

"You know, you don't _have _to tell him. You can just serve the papers. He doesn't need to know about—"

"He'd find out eventually," Lexie cuts in.

"Yeah, but that's eventually. You don't have to tell him, Lex. You can just leave him."

"I…" Lexie pauses. As appealing as the idea is, she knows she'd never be able to do it, not really. It'll be hard telling him, but it would be even worse if he found out later that she'd lied to him when she should have told the truth. "I can't just disappear without an explanation, Mark. I can't go through divorce proceedings with a person who doesn't even fully understand why it's happening. I have to tell him. It's—it's only fair."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry I haven't called that much," Lexie apologizes quietly. "I didn't want to call you and not have any good news. I… I didn't want to disappoint you," she whispers.

"I wouldn't have minded. You couldn't disappoint me, Lex, and you can call anytime."

"Can I… Can I come see you?" Lexie asks hesitantly.

"What?" Mark asks, caught off-guard. "Here?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Lexie smiles weakly. "I want to see you. And you said I could come back," she adds nervously.

"No, of course you can," Mark replies. "I want to see you, too."

"So… So I'll tell him and then I'll try and come down at some point," Lexie tells him. "As soon as there's a break."

"Can't wait."

"I should probably go," Lexie says into the phone. "He'll be back soon and I've gotta get home."

"Good luck. And go easy on him, Lex. It's not his fault."

"I know." _It's mine._

. . .

_Four Days Later_

_8 PM_

. . .

"Hey, do you want anymore?"

"What?" Lexie asks, jerking her head up.

"Food, Lex," Jackson replies, gesturing to the vat of spaghetti on the stove that he's spooning pasta onto his plate from.

"No." Lexie waves a hand. "No, I'm fine. Thanks."

"What's up? You seem kind of…preoccupied," Jackson finishes, taking his seat across their dining table from her.

"Jackson." She says her husband's name so softly, it can barely be heard exiting from between her lips. "There's something we need to talk about."

He looks over to her, sprouting an easy smile, before his face grows sober at her expression. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I—I should have told you so long ago, but…" Lexie takes a deep breath, summoning all the courage she has. "I think we need to take a break."

"What?" Jackson breathes. His hand is frozen, hovering above his plate. He immediately knows what this means. "Why?"

"I just…I think we need some time."

"What are you talking about?" Jackson asks, already feeling his breathing becoming shallow. "Where—where is this coming from?"

"Jackson," Lexie murmurs, looking down at her plate.

"Tell me where this is coming from, Lexie! We were just at Meredith's, things were fine and—Wait, wait, wait, did something happen to Thatcher?" He asks, suddenly calm as he stares across the table at her. "Is that what this is about? Is he sick or something?"

"What?" Lexie asks, confused, before remembering where she was supposed to have spent Christmas break. "No, no, my dad's fine. That's not what this is about."

"Then _what is this about_?"

"I don't…I don't really know how to say it," Lexie whispers.

"Then just _say it_."

"There's…" Lexie closes her eyes momentarily before continuing. "There's someone else," she finishes softly. It's a few seconds before she can force her eyes to meet his, and she wished she'd just forgone the gesture altogether.

Fighting with Mark had in no way prepared her for this. Screaming down his hallway in the middle of the night just days ago might as well have happened ten years in the past for all the voice it gave her tonight. All the drive she'd had during that fight, all the anger, all the courage to scream and yell and then finally manage to let him in… It was if everything had been a trial run for this, and a poor one at that.

Nothing could have prepared her for the way her husband was looking at her now. As many times as she'd seen Mark angry, seen him heartbroken, she was sure there would be no comparison to the expressions she knew she'd see on Jackson's face tonight. Foolishly, she now realized, she had been holding out hope that after what had happened with Mark, this would be easier. She had been hoping that since she survived through everything with Mark, she could survive through this with Jackson. They couldn't be so different, right? And this couldn't be harder, could it?

But there really was no comparing the two experiences. And this one had just begun.

. . .

_**See the stone set in your eyes**_

_**See the thorn twist in your side**_

_I'll wait for you_

_**Sleight of hand and twist of faith**_

_**On a bed of nails, she makes me wait**_

_And I'll wait without you_

_With or without you_

_. . ._

_**And you give yourself away**_

_And you give yourself away_

_And you give, and you give,_

_**And you give yourself away**_

_. . ._

_**My hands are tied**_

_**My body bruised, she's got me with**_

_**Nothing to win and**_

_**Nothing left to lose**_

_. . ._

_Author's Note: Please review; I'll try to update soon._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

_Author's Note: So… language warning. Let the screaming begin. Also, there's some graphic stuff in here. Proceed at your own risk. Thank you all for reviewing :)_

_. . ._

_ "There's… There's someone else."_

"Some…someone _else_?" Jackson asks slowly, his facial features pulled to the center in confusion. He stares at her for a moment as if he isn't quite sure what she's saying. But then the idea registers in his brain. Then the realization enters his mind. Then his mouth opens.

"I'm sorry," Lexie replies quickly, trying to head him off. "But I—"

"You're _sorry?_" Jackson explodes in fury, jumping to his feet. From the way the table between them lurched, she's sure he'd whacked he's knees when he'd stood up too quickly. She knew he wouldn't notice the pain, though. Not with this staring him right in the face. "Are you _kidding me_, Lex? You've been fucking some schmuck behind my back and all you can say is you're _'sorry'_ and you want a divorce?"

"Well—"

"What the _fuck_, Lexie?"

"I… What do you want me to say?" Lexie whispers, looking up at him. Jackson crosses his arms, glaring at her. He swallows, settling his eyes on her more firmly, determined not to be the first one to look away.

"I want you to tell me who it is."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Lexie whispers, getting slowly, carefully to her feet to meet his height.

"Tell me who it is, Lexie," Jackson orders, stepping forward as she steps back. "I deserve to know. You know I do."

"Jackson…"

"Who is it? Who's breaking up our marriage? Do you want me to guess?"

"No," Lexie whispers, her eye flickering down to her shoes.

"I just can't believe…" Jackson trails off, shaking his head as he turns away. "I never would have expected this, you know. Not from you."

"I know," Lexie whispers.

"So… what? You're just sick of me for no reason and we're getting divorced?"

Lexie bites her lip. "I… I told you there was someone else and—"

"—and that's why?" Jackson cuts in. "We're getting divorced because you've been screwing someone else and I'm not good enough anymore?"

"I just—"

"Who is it? Is it someone from work? Is it—"

"It's not anyone from Portland," Lexie replies quickly, trying to calm him down. _Shit, _she thinks as she sees his eyes focus on hers. _Shit, that was the exact _wrong _thing to say._

"Not someone from Portland?" He asks, picking up on the qualification Lexie wished she'd never voiced. "From where, then? Seattle?"

Lexie swallows before speaking, wishing her voice didn't shake. "No."

He stares hard at her, as if trying to cull the truth from her eyes. "You're lying," he states a moment later. Lexie bites down hard on her lip, trying to think of some way to throw him off the scent. Nothing comes.

"Seattle," he murmurs, staring at her silent face and lining up suspects in his mind. _Derek, Hunt, Sloan, Karev… _"Is it Alex?" He asks a second later, his eyes narrowing as he studies her face.

"What?" Lexie asks, half-confused at the assumption and half-relieved he couldn't read her mind and see Mark. "No. No, it's not Alex. Why would it be Alex?"

Jackson shrugs. "He's the only one I could think of."

Lexie's eyebrows rise in disbelief despite the fear still alive in her system. _How does he not know? _"The only one you could think of?" Lexie repeats dubiously. "Are you kidding?"

"What?" Jackson snaps harshly, staring at her with renewed suspicion and anger at her ridicule. "There isn't anyone else it could be, at least not anyone _I _know. Derek and Hunt are married, so they're cut out of the equation. Though," he adds with a chuckle, "I guess I wouldn't put it past you now."

Lexie shakes her head in response, turning it to the side and walking a few feet away in obvious disgust at the implication.

"And you've hated Sloan since the day you found out about Sofia," Jackson continues, unknowingly freezing his wife's body in place with his casual words. "So there's no one else," he finishes, looking at her. He opens his mouth, about to demand an answer when he sees the way she's standing.

Since she told him only moments ago, he's noticed how she has been trying to look him in the eye through all this. But she isn't now. _She doesn't even look like she's breathing_, Jackson observes, taking an instinctive step forward. When he speaks, his voice is quiet.

"What'd I say?" He asks. "Who is it; what did I say?"

"No—nothing," Lexie manages, still unable to turn her head towards him. "You didn't say anything."

"Tell me who it is."

"It's—it's no one you know," Lexie replies, finally being able to look at him. _It's Mark._

"You're lying to me still," Jackson states. "Who is it? Was I right before? Is it—it is Alex? Sloan?"

Lexie shakes her head quickly. Desperate to remain clam, she takes a breath before speaking. "It isn't Alex. And it's—it's not Mark."

"It's not…_Mark_?" Jackson repeats slowly, his eyes trained on her.

"What?" Lexie snaps, trying to hide her terror that voicing his name was some sort of sign, some sort of trigger.

"You called him Mark."

"So?" She snaps again, trying to act more convincing this time. Lexie hopes he can't hear her voice rise with anxiety. "I call Alex 'Alex.' That's his name. I can use his name, can't I? We're friends."

"You called him Mark." His voice hardens as an unwanted idea takes shape in his mind. "And you are _not_ his friend. You've never been his friend."

"It's his _name_, Jackson. It's just… It's just his name."

"Callie…" He swallows roughly, trying to think straight. "Callie said nothing's changed since we left. She _said_ he never got over you. She said he—" He breaks off, unable to speak as he stares at her, waiting for an answer. Lexie's eyes fly away from his, biting down hard on her lip as she wracks her brain for something to say.

"I…" She begins, her voice exiting her mouth like a weak squeak. _Anything, _she thinks desperately. _Say anything! Anything at all; just distract him! Just do something! _But when she hears his breath catch, she knows it's already too late. When she sees his hand white-knuckle the chair beside him for support, she knows it's too late. It's always been too late.

"No," Jackson breathes after he's found his voice. His whispered words display his disbelief as clear as day. "No, no, no, no, it can't—_can't _be him." He shakes his head again, as if this is some strange dream he knows he'll soon wake up from. "Not him," he murmurs.

Lexie shuts her eyes, squeezing her lids together for a moment before looking back over at him, across the five feet of hardwood flooring that separates them. "Jackson," she manages softly. "I—"

"**_NOT HIM!_**" Jackson screams suddenly, his eyes alight with rage, his previous anger increasing tenfold. "This _cannot be_ over **_HIM_**!"

"I'm—I'm sorry," Lexie whispers, knowing it's no use to dissuade him of his opinion. Especially not now, when he knows he's right.

Jackson stares at her in shock, his mouth opening without being able to voice the right words to express what he's feeling.

"I… I'm so sorry, but I just…" Lexie trails off, having no idea to say. _I had so much to say to Mark, _she thinks. _Why don't I have anything to say to him? Why can't I say anything? _"I…"

"You know," he finally manages, speaking as if he hadn't heard her. "Callie warned me about this. She—she warned me that nothing had changed between you two since we moved… And—and she was right!"

"I know," Lexie whispers.

"But I thought we were _happy, _Lexie," Jackson tells her, his voice taking on an almost begging quality. "I thought we had a good life! We never fought, we never argued…" His eyes rise to meet hers, and his face turns to stone as he quickly comes to the conclusion she wondered months ago if he'd ever pick up on. She can see the breath leave his body before he speaks. "But we never saw each other on holidays, did we?"

Lexie closes her eyes, hanging her head slightly. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"We never saw each other when we were in _Seattle_, _did we_? You always—you always left. You said you were visiting Thatcher or Molly and that you'd be gone all night. And I—I didn't question you because they were your_ family_. I didn't question you because family is hard for everyone and you… Jesus Christ, you used the excuse of your _family _to go _fuck your_ **_ex_**?"

"We weren't sleeping together," Lexie murmurs.

"Oh, yeah right!" Jackson laughs loudly, a comical grin on his face. Everything about him makes Lexie's skin crawl. "Come on, I know I'm blind after this, Lex, but I'm not an _idiot_. You must've been screwing him."

"In…In the beginning I was," Lexie replies softly. "But not…We haven't in a…while." _Well, except on Christmas._

Jackson crosses his arms. "Then if you weren't sleeping together, what were you doing?"

"Talking, mostly," Lexie replies.

Jackson stares at her for a moment before turning away, scoffing. "You really expect me to believe that? You really think I'm that big of a dumbass?" He asks, walking away. He stops a few paces away, turning to face her again. "You really think you can come to me and say that you're divorcing me after _six_ years of marriage because you want to go '_talk'_ with Mark _Sloan_?"

"I love him," Lexie admits softly.

"He's an asshole!" Jackson shouts back, his voice working to drown her words. "He's a goddamn—"

"He isn't," Lexie insists. She can't help herself; though she knows she shouldn't push Jackson, not now, she feels a desperate need to defend Mark.

"Oh, don't you defend him," Jackson cuts in angrily, pointing at her and stepping closer. "Don't you try and write off _adultery_ as _love, _you lying, cheating—!" He breaks off, his mouth twisting as he raises a fist to his forehead in an attempt to clear his thoughts and control himself.

Lexie's unable to stop herself; the words are out of her mouth before she can even think. "But it is—" Lexie begins as he cuts her off.

"NO," Jackson argues loudly, his hand dropping from his face and slashing through the air between them as if trying to destroy her words. "No, no, you love _me_," he corrects, gesturing between them. "We are _married. _You love _me _and not him." He shakes his head and her and she can see his nostrils flaring. "Don't you ever tell me you love him. Don't you ever say that to me. _You _love _me_."

Lexie shakes her head, feeling her eyes prick. "But I don't," she chokes out. "I don't."

Jackson steps forward, taking her hands in his and looking her in the face. "You don't want to do this, Lex," he tells her earnestly. "He's forcing you into this and you know you don't want to leave me. You're married to me. You love me."

"I don't," Lexie repeats. She blinks, letting the tears fall. "And he isn't forcing me into anything. He never has. I made this decision."

"You can't do this," Jackson whispers, eyes pleading. "You can't do this to me. Please."

"I'm sorry," Lexie replies, her voice clogged with tears. "But I have to."

"No, no, no, you don't," Jackson replies quickly, reaching out and touching her cheek lightly. "You really don't, Lex. We're okay, baby. We're okay, Lex." He smiles hopefully. "We're still married. We're still us, still together."

"We aren't," Lexie whispers. "We haven't been for…for a long time."

Jackson's hands drop from her skin as if they'd been burned. Though the loss of contact makes her want to look up at him, Lexie resists the urge, knowing that he'll be staring at her with what she can only imagine to be pure hatred.

"How long?" Jackson whispers.

"How long what?" Lexie asks, staring at her feet.

"Don't fuck with me here," Jackson snaps, all tranquility and love gone from his tone. "How long has this been going on?"

Lexie remains silent, looking away. She wants to tell him the truth, knows on some level he deserves it, but she also knows how much it will hurt him. The pain it'll cause him isn't worth him knowing.

"A year?"

Lexie shakes her head quickly. Her saddened expression lets him know that he guessed too low.

Jackson swallows, staring at her even though she won't look at him. He can't quite wrap his head around the fact that she's been sleeping with another man for over an entire year. That she's been 'in love' with another man for over an entire year. He pauses a moment, trying to pick an obscene length of time, so at least he'd have a few ballpark figures. At least he could have something to laugh at and feel good about, even if it's for just a second.

"Five years, then?" He asks, a half-smile on his face at the ridiculous number.

Lexie raises her eyes to his, biting her lip at the smile on his face, before shaking her head again. She can see his eyes widen at the realization; he most likely expected it to be a short amount of time. He probably expected this to be a rash decision that he could quickly fix.

"Do you—do you remember the plane crash back in Seattle, with the one survivor?"

"Yes, of course," Jackson snaps. "The girl. Everyone remembers that. But what does she have to do with…" Jackson almost chokes on his words. It's a full minute before he can speak again.

"Oh… Oh my god," he manages. "You…You can't be serious. Tell me you're lying," he orders, turning on her. "Christ, Lexie, tell me you're lying!"

"I'm sorry," she replies, feeling her eyes fill again and not knowing what else to say. "I'm so sorry."

"But that—that was the day when he said he was done fighting for you," Jackson argues, his mind moving quickly. "He said he gave you up and…" Jackson runs a hand over his head, freezing as the realization hits him. "And you went back to him and he thought it'd be funny to rub it in my face!"

"He didn't—"

"Don't dare you try to justify his actions to me, Lexie!" Jackson screams, pointing at her. "Don't you _dare_ try and defend that fucking _bastard_ to _me_! Don't portray him as respectable when all he was doing was fucking my _wife_ every chance he _got_!"

"Calm down. I'm not defending him, I'm just saying—"

"_Calm down_?" Jackson mocks. "You're divorcing me for some jackass you used to fuck and you're telling me to _calm down_?"

"I just—"

"I don't want to hear it."

"But I—"

"I said _I don't want to hear it_, Lex, okay?" Jackson snarls angrily before turning around. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to collect all of the thoughts that are ricocheting within the confines of his brain.

"I don't understand," he murmurs a few second later, pivoting to face her without looking up. "If you—If you've been with him all this time, why didn't you just break up with me back then? Why did you say 'yes' to me?" His forehead creases, anguish covering his features as his hand drops. "Why did you…Why did you marry me if you still loved someone else?" His voice breaks. "Why did you lead me on like this? For—for six years?"

"I…"

"If you were with him all this time, why did you marry me?"

"I…I didn't know there was another option," Lexie confesses softly. "When you asked, I—I didn't know what to do or—or what to say—"

"Yes and no, Lexie," he spits, suddenly fired up again. "There is _always_ another option. Jesus, you could have said 'maybe;' at least that would have been better than this!"

"I'm so sorry," she manages.

"Fat lot of good your apologies do me."

"I…I just… I didn't know what to do, okay? I loved him, but I was with you and…" She takes a deep, steadying breath, though it does little to aid her nerves. "And then you asked me to m—marry you, and I just…" Lexie raises her eyes to his, tilting her head sadly. "I—I never knew that there was any other answer but 'yes,'" she admits, feeling her eyes overflow with tears. "I just… I thought that was it," she continues, swiping at her eyes, "that you _had_ to say 'yes' and I just…" She bites her lip. "Well, I—I did what I had to do."

Jackson exhales shakily, rubbing his face tiredly and trying to comprehend her words. "Jesus Christ," he mutters, walking past her to the far window of the room. The house is silent for a few minutes as he looks out into the dark landscape, searching for someone else to focus his attention on. He can't bear to look at her anymore. He can't be in the same room with her. Not without seeing _him_. Him and her and _them_—

"You can have the bed," Jackson says finally, breaking the silence after a couple minutes and signaling the end of their conversation. Lexie looks up, turning around to face him only to find that his back is to her.

"No," she argues softly. "You have it. I don't—"

"Take it." His voice is harsh and unyielding. "I'll stay on the couch."

"No, I can't. I…" _don't deserve it._

"What?" Jackson asks quietly, his eyes still fixated on the midnight landscape of Portland. "You _what_?"

"I just…I want you to have the bed," Lexie replies, her voice barely audible within the silence of the night.

Jackson turns around, staring at her for a moment before lifting his hands in resignation. "Whatever," he mutters, heading to their bedroom. "Have it your way if you must. I'm going to bed."

"But, wait, we need to talk—"

"Lexie," Jackson cuts in with an impatient sigh. "What in the _world _is there left to talk about?"

"Just the—"

"Save it for tomorrow."

"But I—"

"Honestly, Lexie, we need to stop this conversation. I need to just walk away right now, okay? Before I…" He runs a hand over his buzzed head. "I just need to walk away. I can't look at you without seeing him and…" He closes his eyes. "I just can't look at you, understand that? I need to walk away."

"Wait, Jackson, I—"

"No. _Stop._" Lexie opens her mouth to protest, but is quickly cut off as he continues. "I can't do this anymore right now. I…" He turns to her, closing his eyes as he shakes his head. "I have _never _done anything to deserve this. You know that, don't you? You realize how unfair this is? You realize what you're doing to me? What you've _done _to me?"

"Yes," Lexie manages, feeling the breath in her throat catch. "Yes, I know what I'm doing. I know what I've done."

"I have never done _anything _except love you and support you." Jackson shakes his head. "I have never perpetrated _one _wrong by you for over _six _years and _this _is how you repay me."

"Jackson—"

"By telling me that you've found someone else. By telling me that not only you're with him, but—_surprise!_—you love him too and you've been seeing him for longer than we've been _married_," he finishes flatly. "Sure, you know what," he continues before she can open her mouth, "let's say I believe you and we'll _pretend _that you two haven't been screwing each other, but guess what! It still doesn't change the fact that you were seeing him _behind my back _for years. _Years, _like it never occurred to you how wrong it was! Like it never occurred to you what something like _that _could do to _me_! _Me, _Lexie!"

"I'm sorry," she whispers, feeling her throat constrict. It has to be the hundredth time she's uttered those words since she admitted the truth. "I'm… I'm truly sorry."

"Right. I'm sure you are." Jackson sighs, looking over at her. "But being sorry didn't stop you from seeing him, did it?" Lexie closes her eyes, knowing there's nothing honest she can say in her own defense. There is no defense. "You weren't sorry long enough to think twice. You weren't sorry long enough to call it off."

"I… I don't know what to say," Lexie whispers to break the silence.

"Good. Perfect." He turns his back to her, heading to the bedroom. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, then."

_. . ._

_2 AM_

_. . ._

Lexie punches the ten-digit number into her cell with shaking fingers. She lets it ring a few times before hanging up and throwing it towards the other end of the couch. It lands among her blankets with a dull _thud_. _What am I doing? It's two AM. I can't call him._

A few seconds later her phone rings shrilly. "Shit!" Lexie mutters, scrambling to find it before she wakes up Jackson. She'd heard him hop in the shower a while ago, but as she'd dozed on and off—without successfully sleeping—for the past few hours, she was sure he was asleep by now. He didn't have the guilt hanging on him like it was trying to drown him to keep him awake like she did. _He'll sleep easy compared to me, _Lexie thinks with a sigh, knowing it's fair.

"Hello?"

"Hey," Mark replies. She can hear him yawn on the other end of the phone. "You called? You okay?"

"I'm—it's nothing. And I didn't mean to wake you up, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. What's up? What happened?"

"Nothing," Lexie manages, biting her lip in a poor attempt to keep her eyes dry.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks softly, hearing a slight catch in her breathing.

"I'm—I'm fine. I'll talk to you later, alright? I'll—I'll call you later."

"Okay," Mark replies reluctantly, not quite wanting to leave her like this. "If you're sure…"

"I'm fine," Lexie assures him. "I'm fine. Sorry I woke you up."

"Good-night, then."

Lexie smiles faintly at this. "Good-night."

"Hey, Lex," he adds just as she's about to hang up.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," he replies softly. "And it'll all be all right. Remember that, okay?"

"I know." She smiles, not knowing how he's able to find the perfect words to calm her down even when it seems like everything's falling apart. "I won't forget. I love you too."

"Good-night, then."

"Night, Mark." She exhales softly, ending the call and setting her phone on the floor. She closes her eyes for the hundredth time, waiting for sleep she knows the darkness is only taunting her with. It's much too far out of reach for her to grab it.

. . .

Minutes after he'd left her in their living room, Jackson lies alone in bed, trying to turn off his brain. It doesn't work so well. Moments from the past six years keep flashing through his head. As much as he would like to, he can't make himself _stop_ remembering all the times she had looked at him with such tenderness. The times she'd hugged him, kissed him, made love to him… And it was all just a lie. _She was just imagining someone else, wasn't she? _Jackson reasons bitterly. Every day, every hour, every minute, and every second was all just wrapped together in one big lie from their very beginning. _Sloan_. Even in his thoughts, the name has a sour twist to it. Even in his thoughts, Jackson can't escape him.

He takes a series of slow, steady breaths in and out through his nose before closing his eyes. _I'll just go to sleep, _he thinks, laying his head back on the pillows. _I'll just go to sleep, forget about this, and everything will be fine._ But that plan doesn't work. Despite never seeing them do anything more than share one kiss at Joe's years ago, Jackson can't even close his eyes for five seconds without seeing them together. All he'd done was try to clear his thoughts and fall asleep, and now he couldn't even achieve that. He thought it was bad enough mere moments before when he couldn't stop thinking about them together—well, now he can't stop _seeing _them together. Talking, laughing, touching, kissing, going to bed together in one another's arms… He groans quietly—and though barely a sound escapes Jackson's mouth, it sounds like a scream to his ears—and brings his hands to his eyes. Maybe if he presses his fists hard enough against his closed eyes, they'll stay unseeing. Maybe if he squeezes his lids tight enough he'll be able to forget the images his mind's conjured up against his will.

A second later, he forces his eyes open, jumping off the bed. He backs away from it, his mind spinning out of control with what he can only hope are wild scenarios, until he hits the wall a few feet away. _What if he was here? _Jackson stares at the perfectly made bed, now slightly rumpled from his quick escape, as if it will offer him the answer he wants to hear. _No, _an optimistic side of him thinks. _No, she wouldn't do that to you. Not to you. Not here._

_But do you know that for sure? _Another part of him asks._ Do you really have any idea what she would or wouldn't do to you anymore? Any idea at all?_

He blinks his eyes, trying to chase away the thought, and in that miniscule second of time between when his eyelids shutter closed and then open, he can see them. He doesn't need to see them, he doesn't want to see them—but he can. Time freezes and speeds up all at once, and he can see everything that might've happened clearly in just one-third of a second, just one blink of his eyes. He watches them together in his mind's eye, unable to avert his eyes as if he's looking at a gruesome car crash or a badly mangled patient.

And in that miniscule one-third of a second, he can't decide what's worse: seeing him touching her or seeing her touching him.

. . .

_As he watches them together, Jackson can somehow see the lusty tinge to both of their irises, though neither of their eyes look over to him nor up from each other. He can see the way she holds him close, her arms wrapping around his neck and anchoring him to her while her legs do the same to the lower half of his body. Jackson can see each place the man's hands dip down to meet her skin in strange clarity, as if his touch left marks behind to brand her as his. But there are no marks. His hands are too gentle for that. He can somehow see into both their minds as well, see how much they want each other, though he wishes just the opposite were true. He wishes he never saw any of this, never heard any of this, never imagined any of this. Even if he'd caught them together, seen them like together like he knows Derek had with his ex-wife, he's sure it couldn't be worse than this. Nothing could be worse than his visions, and he wishes his mind would just shut down and leave him at peace._

_ But that doesn't happen. All he can see is _**them**_._

_. . ._

_ Though his tall body was crouched above her before—his hands trailing up her long, shapely legs, as his weight settled upon her—they've now switched positions. She hovers above him for a moment before letting her body sink down on his smoothly, as if the move had been practiced to the edge of perfection. Both of their eyes drift closed in ecstasy for a short second, but the second barely lasts. Soon she is rising and falling above him of her own volition and as hard as Jackson tries to look away or close his eyes, the image won't leave his mind. It's burned into his eyes, burned into his memory, despite him never having really seen it or even knowing that it occurred._

_. . ._

_ He can see the possessive way the man's hands rest on her hips, guiding her above him though she barely seems to need the aid. He can see the way he leans forward, kissing up her torso and neck and creating a wet trail amongst the sheen of sweat on her body. Her hands rise to her forehead, haphazardly pushing her long hair away from her perspiring face before they settle on the man before her. She lifts his head from her torso, drawing him close. Her hands are desperate and wanting and they don't rest for even the shortest moment. As she moves towards him, their lips crash together much as their bodies had—frenzied, passionate, and without even the smallest hesitation or pause for second thought. They each know whom they want, and whom they want is right in front of them. They're literally within reach of each other, not even a hair's breadth away. There's not even the littlest pocket of air separating them, nor the smallest space between them._

_. . ._

_ Time speeds up, and in seconds they're calling out each other's names, and no one else's, and soon they're collapsing in on each other, much like a star imploding. She slumps forward, and he manages to catch her seemingly boneless body before she falls completely on top of him. The man maneuvers her gently so she's lying just to his left side. Panting, they turn towards each other as if by habit, wearing ridiculous matching grins Jackson wishes he could slap off of at least one of their faces._

_She curls her body towards his like a child searching for a safe haven; he draws her close as if trying to shelter her from the world. They murmur softly to each other, their quiet words taunting him with whatever unknown sentiments they're sharing. He feels the sick urge to move closer somehow, to know what they're saying to each other, but before he makes a move—_

_. . ._

He can see again. This time it's only the bare room before him and Jackson feels like dying from relief. He comes out of his torturous half-nightmare as if from a trance, not quite steady on his feet. Though he feels like vomiting or screaming or maybe throwing something, Jackson simply stumbles back from the bed when he opens his eyes. After he manages to calm his dizzying head, he immediately heads to the bathroom.

Though the toilet's there, somehow the urge to vomit has passed. He paces back and forth in the small room—too worried that if he stops moving for one second the visions will resume—before he makes a snap decision and jumps in the shower. Jackson Avery had never been one to enjoy an uncomfortably hot shower, but it seems the only option tonight. He turns up the valve until steam fills the room and the water feels scalding on his skin—and he finally relaxes. He closes his eyes and doesn't see anything.

He stands in the shower for what must be an hour but what feels like days until the hot water finally runs out. When it does, he stumbles back towards the bed, too drained to even remember what had driven him to the half-blissful half-painful experience he'd just brought to a close. Jackson falls to the covers, breathing a sigh of relief when he lets his eyes drift closed and all he's greeted with behind his eyelids is darkness. No Mark, no Lexie, no nothing. Just blackness. Just nothing. An immensely thankful smile stretches across his exhausted face as he waits for blessed sleep to come. It won't be long. It can't be far off. No, it will be easy to fall asleep tonight, won't it? _It has to be._

"Easy," he murmurs to himself, still smiling. _Nothing can stop me now._

And. Then.

"I know." Her voice drifts towards him through the half-open door. He'd almost forgotten she was even in the house. _Who's she talking to?_ He's about to get to his feet when her next words freeze him in place, paralyzing him with too many emotions to even contemplate. "I won't forget. I love you too. …Night, Mark."

His eyes snap open at her whispered words, and the cycle begins anew. He can see her, he can see him, he can see _them_ and nothing else. There's no forgetting now. _Nothing can stop me now._

_. . ._

_Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a cab_

_While he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag_

**_Now they're going to bed and my stomach is sick_**

**_And it's all in my head—_**

**_But she's touching his chest, now_**

**_He takes off her dress, now_**

_Let me go…_

_. . ._

**_And I just can't look,_**

**_It's killing me…and taking control._**

**_Jealousy,_**

_Turning saints into the sea_

_Swimming through sick lullabies_

**_Choking on your alibis._**

_ . . ._

_Author's Note: Review please and tell me what you think._


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

_Author's Note: Hi, you guys! I'm very sorry about the lateness of this update; I'm currently on vacation. I hope the length of the chapter (and that little one-shot I wrote) makes up for it a bit._

. . .

_2.15 AM_

. . .

Having just hung up on Mark, Lexie's getting a glass of water from the kitchen when a voice behind her causes her to almost jump out of her skin.

"So what is it?" A voice asks from the darkness behind her.

"Oh!" Lexie calls, doing a one-eighty at the sound. "Jesus, you scared me," she says, recognizing the voice as her husband's. She sets down the glass in her hand, looking around for him in the dark. "I almost spilled water all over the floor."

"Why are you leaving me for him?" Jackson asks, ignoring her words. "What's the reason?"

Lexie sighs, picking up her water again before leaning back against the countertop beside the fridge and waiting for him to show himself. Jackson steps forward a second later from the dining room where he'd been standing beside one of the chairs at the table. With just one look at him, Lexie can tell he hasn't slept even a minute since she had told him hours ago.

"Is he that much better in bed than me? Is that why?"

"Jackson," Lexie sighs in disapproval. "Come on."

"What? I'm serious. I want to know."

"I said I was leaving, and that's the _first_ thing that came into your mind? Who's a better lay?"

"I'm sorry, is that _not _what you would have thought? You two've been screwing each other and now you're leaving me. I thought it was a valid concern, seeing as _we _haven't slept together in—in I can't even _remember_ how long." He narrows his eyes at her. "Because you were always busy, right? Or I was in surgery." He nods his head. "Right. We were so focused on making real _careers _that we forgot about each other, which is awful but—" He shrugs. "Worked out good for you, didn't it? Better than you could have hoped for, huh?"

"You don't need to be concerned," Lexie replies slowly, trying to modulate her voice and erase his last few sentences from her mind. "That isn't why. And sex is a stupid reason for getting divorced," she adds.

"Then why?"

Lexie sighs before answering. "I told you," she replies quietly, looking down at the glass in her hands. "I love him."

It's silent for a moment within their darkened house while Jackson processes this. "Wow," he notes, turning around to leave. "That actually hurt more. Congratulations."

"You asked—" Lexie calls, stepping forward to follow him.

"Yes, and you could have _lied_," Jackson replies loudly, whirling around. "You could have humored me!"

"Really?" Lexie counters, her eyes flashing to his. "Would you have wanted that? Would you have _really _wanted me to lie to you, after everything?"

"I'd like a little compassion," Jackson replies sharply. "I'd like a little sympathy. But apparently even _that _is too much for you to muster."

"Jackson—"

"I mean, god, I just want to know what it is!" He shouts, a wild look in his eyes. "If it's not the sex, then what _is_ it? Money, looks, success—I mean, is it because he's a better surgeon? Is _that_ why?"

"Ugh," Lexie grumbles, rolling her eyes. "Surgery? Seriously?"

"Oh, come on, Lex," Jackson continues as if she hadn't spoken. "Just tell me what it is!"

"Jackson," Lexie groans. "It is _none _of those things, I promise you."

"Then _what_ could he _possibly_ have that I don't have? _Why _are you leaving me? _What _is it_?_"

"_Nothing_," Lexie replies forcefully, suddenly desperate to make him understand. "It's nothing! He doesn't have _anything_ that you don't have, that's just it! There's only one difference, and it isn't something he _has_."

"Right." Jackson chuckles, but Lexie's unsure if it's a defense mechanism he's built up or a response to what he sees as true hilarity. She doesn't really want to know, either way. "It's love." She watches as his expression hardens in the shadows of their house. "You _love _him."

Lexie just closes her eyes, knowing it'll do no good to respond. After a few seconds, she walks forward, and seeing their conversation has drawn to a close, passes him on the way out to the living room. His eyes follow her as she walks past him and goes back to her makeshift bed on the couch.

"What?" He calls tauntingly after her. "You embarrassed of it now? Can't even look me in the eye and tell me truth even when I _know _it? Even when I can _take _it?"

Lexie groans quietly to herself, setting down the glass of water on their coffee table and running her hands through her hair before turning around. "Jackson, we both know you don't want me to look you in the eye and tell you the truth. You don't want to hear any more."

He stares at her, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know what?" He asks, following after her. "I _do _want to know. I _do _want you to tell me the truth—the _whole _truth."

"You don't want to do this," Lexie warns him. "You're trying to prove a point but you really don't—"

"Oh," Jackson cuts in, taking a seat in one of the chairs next to the couch. "I think I do. Come on." He spreads his hands. "Lay it all out for me."

Lexie sighs, knowing he won't give up anytime soon, and takes a seat on the couch. It's no use fighting him. _And it's only fair, _she reminds herself. _If he wants to know, he should be able to know. _"Okay," she replies, looking up at him. Her eyes bore into his for a few seconds before she asks. "What do you want to know?"

It's silent for a couple minutes between the two. Only the sounds of distant metropolitan traffic and sirens can be heard; their neighborhood is as soundless as their own house. Lexie taps her foot absentmindedly, unsure of how to prepare herself. He could ask about anything. He could ask about anything, and they both know she would have to answer. The guilt would be too much otherwise.

"You were crying," Jackson says finally.

"What?" Lexie's eyes fly to his. _He heard that?_

"On our wedding day," Jackson clarifies. Lexie's relieved to see he looks away as he speaks; she doesn't think she'd be able to look him in the eye after the turn this conversation has taken. "When we were being driven away from the chapel, you were crying. I thought…" He swallows. "I thought it was because you were happy."

. . .

_"Bye!" Lexie and Jackson call as they wave to their assembled friends and family outside the church. They're all standing, waving and cheering, as the couple enters their chauffeured car. A genuine smile curves up Lexie's lips upon seeing April Kepner among her friends, smelling the flowers from the bouquet she'd caught just minutes ago. She offers everyone one last waved before they both climb inside, Lexie on the right, Jackson on the left, and wave until the car turns a corner down the street. They sit comfortably as the driver merges into traffic, spread out in the spacious backseat._

_"You happy?" Jackson asks softly, reaching over to take her hand. Lexie glances over to him quickly, her eyes nervous. She nods rapidly, turning away to wipe her eyes where he can't see. She studies the crowd they're leaving behind in the side mirror, searching for the one person she knows isn't there. He never magically appeared as she'd hoped. He never came, and she wishes she could stop hoping._

_ "Hey," Jackson murmurs, drawing her attention away from the window. "Don't cry," he says with a smile, squeezing her hand. "You look great. Everything went perfectly."_

_ " I know." Lexie chuckles softly. "Thanks. I'm just a mess, sorry. I doubt my face is much better than my emotions."_

_ "Don't be ridiculous. You've never looked better. And that dress? Fan_**tas**_tic."_

_ "What?" Lexie jokes, gesturing down at the confection of white fabric surrounding her. "This old thing?"_

_ "Yeah, you just pulled that out of the bottom of your closet, didn't you?"_

_ "Caught me," Lexie replies. "I'm cheap, you know." She waits a moment, glancing over to him. "Are _**you** _happy?"_

_ He grins, leaning forward to kiss her lovingly. When they break apart a few seconds later, he answers her. "Never been happier."_

_ "Right," Lexie smiles weakly through her tears. "Me neither."_

_ "Come here," Jackson suggests, holding out an arm. She unbuckles her seatbelt, sliding across the backseat of the courier and into his comforting arms. "We've got forever, alright? Starting today, we've got everything."_

_ Lexie nods, her head slumped against his shoulder. "We do," she manages after a moment. "We have…" She pauses, closing her eyes and forcing a smile. "Forever."_

_ "I love you," he whispers in her ear, holding her tight. Lexie nods again, whispering quietly in response. He smiles at her words, assuming she'd repeated his own and, needing no reassurance of his guess, he looks out the window at the beauty of the brightly shining sun. _A good omen, _he thinks with a smile, consolingly rubbing her arm as she leans against his chest. _

. . .

"Look at me," Jackson commands harshly when his eyes returns to hers and her gaze immediately drops. "Look at me and tell me you weren't thinking about him. Look at me and try not to lie to my goddamn _face_."

"Really," he adds with sickly sweet smile when she doesn't speak. "Let's see if you can do it."

"Jackson…"

"I'm waiting."

"Fine," Lexie mutters, following his instructions and looking him in the eye. "You want the truth? You want to make this worse for yourself? You want to make this more painful? _Yes, _I was upset. And _yes_, it was because I was thinking about him." She stares at him coldly. "There you go. You were right." Her expression sours. "Tell me, does it make you fell any better?"

"It was supposed to be the most important day of our lives, wasn't it?" Jackson counters, ignoring her jab. "Well, it was important to me." He crosses his arms. "What about you?"

"It—it was important to me too," Lexie manages, already feeling guilty for mocking him just a moment ago. Her rudeness was more a cover for her shock—she can't quite believe he remembered what had transpired after the ceremony. It was a tiny detail of a huge day over six years ago. It was nothing. Nothing. "It—was important."

He closes his eyes, chuckling softly at her words. "Important," he repeats. "But not for the same reason as me, huh?" Lexie opens her mouth to protest, but he continues before she can speak. "You led me to believe the crying was because you were _happy_, but you weren't, were you? Happiest day of _my _life and you were sitting there crying. Over _him_."

"Jackson—"

"To think I tried to make you feel better. To think I tried to comfort you while you were crying over your little _boyfriend_." Jackson swallows roughly, but forces himself not to drop her gaze. _She deserves this_, he thinks. "You were crying because you were marrying _me _and not _him_, weren't you? I—I thought it was just runaway emotions, you know, because of everything that had happened. I thought it was something you couldn't control. But you were _trying_ to control it. You didn't want me to see that at all. You thought I'd be able to read your face, and that I'd—I'd be able to see _him_." Jackson pauses and lets out a breath, long and slow. Lexie wonders if he knows how truthful his words are, or if he's just making accusations to hurt her. "When I said we have forever, I was trying to comfort you, you know. But I'm sure you just saw it as torture," he finishes, his voice stumbling over the last word. The facts he'd begun voicing as a way to get back at her had begun backfiring as soon as he realized just how true they were. _I can't, can I? _ He thinks to himself. _I can't win with her. It's impossible._

Lexie bites her tongue. As much as she wants to admit that every word he'd said was true, she knows it would only be another twist of the knife if she did so. So she stays silent, trying to protect him if she can.

But they both know he's right. Neither needs confirmation.

"I honestly have no idea why I ever believed a word you said," he begins again. "I don't know why I didn't just see it from the beginning. It was plenty obvious."

"Jackson…"

"I just…" He says heatedly before trailing off. "You know, I must've looked past it," he finishes softly, looking down. She can tell from the way his voice trails off that he's attributing himself to the failure of their marriage.

"It's not your fault," Lexie replies, rushing through her words as she tries to convince him. "It—it was never your fault. You can't… Really, Jackson, you can't blame yourself for this. There's—it just… It doesn't make any sense."

"It makes plenty of sense," he says quietly. "I knew you… loved him, and I just…let it slip by. You know, I just thought it would go away. Fade over time."

"It…didn't," Lexie replies softly.

His eyes flick up to her face in half a second, resuming their earlier angry shade. "Yes, I realize that now, thank you. Believe it or not, I know how you feel about him."

"I was just—"

"You know what?" Jackson asks, standing up. "I shouldn't have come out here. You're right; I don't want to know this." He jerks his thumb towards the bedroom. "So I'm gonna go. I'll see you in the morning."

Lexie watches him go, confused at his rapid mood swings. "Night," she says quietly as the door closes. She stares at it, hardly being able to believe that it's the first physical barrier that's been put between them in six years.

. . .

_6 AM_

. . .

"Hi," Lexie murmurs when she sees him the in morning. Jackson nods as he walks by, but doesn't reply. He just pours himself another cup of coffee and rubs the back of his neck.

"So I'm guessing you already have a lawyer and everything," he says in lieu of a morning greeting.

Lexie looks over her shoulder, eyeing his sleep-deprived expression. "I do." She speaks softly, as if raising her voice would make her betrayal that much worse.

"So how does this happen?"

Lexie licks her lips, staring at him. The house is silent for a few seconds before she speaks. "Just like that?" She asks in quiet wonder. "You're just…letting go?" She'd expect him to fight back, not to just let her… walk away.

"It was a long night," Jackson replies, staring right at her. "And I figure that there's no point in holding on if you're so keen on being with someone else. Besides, I know a losing battle when I see one. And you and Sloan…" He looks away, and Lexie wishes there was something she could do to comfort him. But even now, it's too late. Even if she went back to him now, there was no way they could still work, still be anything close to what they were before. When Jackson looks back at her, he's smiling. "Who can compete with that, right?"

"Jackson," Lexie murmurs, stepping forward and reaching out to him without thinking.

"You know what?" Jackson gets up, backing away from her just as she's moved towards him. "I should go." He turns around, grabbing his coat as he heads to the door.

"Where? You don't have work—"

"I'm going for a walk," he interrupts.

"Well, wait, we should—"

"I'm sure we'll talk again soon," he replies quickly, "after you serve me papers to facilitate the dissolution of a marriage that you wrecked by sleeping with someone else."

"Jack—"

"Bye, Lexie," he calls, letting the door slam shut behind him. He takes a deep breath as he steps out into the cold winter air, thankful for odd silence of the mid-morning. All he can hear are the sounds of a few distant cars as he sets off down the street.

. . .

"Mer, look," Derek says quietly, taking a seat beside her in the cafeteria. It's mostly empty, with a few scattered doctors taking quick breakfast breaks just like them. "I know you want to tell him, but you can't be sure about—"

"She was there over _Christmas_, Derek," Meredith hisses across the table at him. She glances over her shoulder out of habit, but no one is within earshot. "Christmas! And I saw her come back in the same clothes from the night before. Then I heard her feed Jackson some bullshit line about visiting Thatcher. She was with Mark. I know it, so stop stalling. We have to tell him."

"No, she couldn't have been," Derek argues, taking a gulp of his coffee. "Mark told me he called it off."

"Then he was lying."

"You don't know that. You don't have any proof that they're—"

"I'm _sorry_," Meredith interrupts angrily, "but do I need more proof than the fact that she comes back at four in the morning every night she stays at our house? Where the hell else would she be that late?"

Derek shakes his head. "Meredith, you weren't there when I talking to him—"

"We have to tell him," she cuts in firmly. "If you don't want to do it, then I will."

Derek sighs, running a hand over his tired face. "Fine," he acquiesces, knowing he'll be gentler at breaking the news than his wife. "I'll tell him."

"Well?" Meredith asks a moment later, staring at her unmoving husband. "Come on. Tell him already."

"Will you just give me a minute?" Derek asks abruptly, glaring at her while she sits back in her chair. "I'll be ruining his life; give me a second to prepare."

"You aren't the one ruining it," Meredith mutters.

. . .

Jackson is barely a few minutes into his walk when he hears his phone ring in his pocket. He sighs, annoyed. _It's probably Lexie, _he thinks, his finger drifting automatically to the 'ignore' glances down at the screen anyway, surprised to find that it isn't his wife—it's Derek. He hesitates for just a moment before taking the call. _Distraction will be good._

"Jackson Avery."

"Hey, Jackson, it's Derek."

"Hey, man. What's up?"

"Nothing, just… There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"Oh, yeah? You got a case or something?" _Give me some normalcy, please._

"It's…about Lexie."

Jackson immediately takes the phone from his ear, holding it with a death grip between his fingers. _Does everything have to be about her? _His knuckles turn white, as if his bones are pushing through his flesh, as Derek's concerned voice floats out to meet him.

"I don't…I don't really know how to say this, but… Meredith and I…We've seen Lexie with…someone else. Another…another man. And I…I'm sorry I had to tell you over the phone, but I thought you needed to know and… Jackson? Are you there? …Avery?"

"Yes," he replies after a tense minute, bringing the device back to his ear. His voice is crisp. "Thank you, Derek, for finally telling me. It's a wonder someone _ever_ got around to it." He sneers, and the fact that Derek cannot see him barely detracts from the gesture. "And Sloan's quite a 'man,' isn't he?" Avery adds. "Stealing someone's wife, what a _manly_ thing to do."

"Wai…Wait, you _know _about it? And you—you know it was Mark?"

"Yes, me, the clueless husband, I know."

"And you didn't…You didn't do anything?"

"What can I do?" Jackson snaps angrily. "She's made her decision, and if she's been this miserable with me for years, I won't bother trying to keep her."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Derek says quickly, straightening up. "What do you mean, you won't bother trying to keep her? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Sloan didn't tell you? That was grand of him, leaving it to me." Jackson exhales loudly, watching his breath float off into the chilly air. "We're getting divorced, Derek."

"_What_?"

Jackson can hear the disbelief clearly in his friend's voice, but his tone remains bored. "Yes. Divorce. Lawyers." He glances at his watch, checking the date. "I'm sure I'll be getting some papers in the mail in a day or two."

"And you're—you're not fighting it? You won't even try to change her mind?"

"There's no point," Jackson replies, feeling his sleepless night rush through him again. "If she doesn't want to be with me, I won't force her. And, anyway, fighting it won't do anything. It'll just lengthen a process that I really don't want to go through in the first place."

"Yeah, but you could at least try to convince her—"

"There's no way to convince her. She doesn't even love me."

"Oh, Jackson, you guys are married. She must—"

"No, she mustn't anything, apparently," he snaps before pauses and taking a deep breath. "You know the only reason she said 'yes' when I asked her?"

Derek swallows. From Avery's tone of voice, Derek can tell he won't want to hear what's coming.

"She said she didn't know there was any other answer _but_ 'yes.'" Jackson laughs ruefully as he answers his own question. "As if she'd never heard the word 'no.' …Which, at this point, I can completely believe. He can't say no to her, I can't say no to her…" He shakes his head. "She gets whatever she wants, including this divorce."

"Jackson, I'm… I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," he replies cheerfully. "It's not like you turned a blind eye and let it pass you by for years—oh, wait! You did!"

"I—"

"Before you try to say you didn't know," Jackson growls into the phone, "_don't_. We both know you knew. You had to have known." He pauses, and he can hear the neurosurgeon sigh on the other side of the line.

"Jackson, you _have_ to understand," Derek implores him after a moment, leaning forward as if the man were sitting across from him. "Meredith and I knew but we didn't know what to _do_. We tried—"

"No, you didn't try _anything_. I cannot remember one conversation where you—even vaguely—tried to point out that she was sleeping with someone else. So you're partly to blame for all this too. I just thought you should know."

"Jacks—" Derek begins, only to be cut off.

"Bye, Derek. Thank you for calling after the fact and trying to be a good guy. That really didn't make this situation any shittier _at all_. Next time, you know, just tell me when you suspect my wife is screwing someone else."

"Avery—" Derek tries again, desperate to tell his side of things, but is shut down. He hears the other line _click_, and so he also ends the call, knowing his efforts are useless.

Despite feeling like shattering the device on the icy ground, Jackson slips his phone back into his pocket and continues on his walk. He forces a smile on his face despite feeling like he wants to strangle someone. _So everyone knew, _he thinks to himself. _Fantastic. Everyone but me._

. . .

"Didn't go well, I presume?" Meredith asks, taking a bite of her bagel. Derek closes his eyes, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair.

"They're getting divorced," he tells his wife, massaging his forehead with his palms.

_"WHAT?_" Meredith half-shouts, causing all of the doctors in the lunchroom to look over at her. "Sorry," she mutters to the gawkers before she leans towards her husband.

"What do you mean they're getting _divorced_?" She asks urgently. "They've—they've been married almost as long as we have, they can't—"

"They are," Derek replies. "And Jackson isn't even bothering to fight it."

"You've got to be kidding me," Meredith replies in disbelief. "Even Addison tried to get you back when you filed for divorce, and he—he could do it too!"

Derek closes his eyes. "I don't think he wants to," he says quietly. "He's convinced she doesn't love him and is willing to give her what she wants. Why, I have absolutely _no_ idea," Derek mutters.

"It isn't like he was the one who did wrong here," Meredith argues. "It's not like he's the one who went off and slept with someone else for eight years!"

Derek just sighs, not knowing what to say.

"We waited too long," Meredith murmurs, voicing his thoughts. "We should have told him years ago."

"I know," Derek whispers, covering his face with his hands tiredly. "I know."

Meredith stares at him for a moment before getting to her feet. "I'm going to go talk to Mark," she announces.

"Mer, that's not a good idea…"

"Screw him," Meredith seethes, towering over the table. "He can't do this. He can't keep ruining other people's lives just because he can't keep it in his pants."

"I think it's more than that," Derek argues. "He loves her and—"

"I don't care if he goddamn proposed to her," Meredith hisses. "_He can't do this_."

. . .

"Whitney Palmer."

"Hello, it's Lexie Grey."

"Lexie, hi. What can I do for you?"

"I told him."

"Your husband? You told him you wanted a divorce?"

"He—he said he wasn't going to fight it. He knew I was serving papers, but he's just…" Lexie trails off, still confused. "He's just…letting go."

Whitney leans forward at her desk. "Okay, Lexie, you have to remember that this is a _good_ thing. If your husband doesn't dispute the divorce, it means this can go smoothly. We might—you know, we might not even have to do this in court."

Lexie perks up at this, her confusion fading to the background. "_Really?_"

"If he agrees, we could do a series of negotiation sessions to sort out all of your assets and belongings—"

"He can have them," Lexie cuts in. "I told you I didn't want anything."

"You don't want anything _now_. But when this…When this case picks up speed, you might find that there are some things—bank accounts, houses, possessions—that you might want after all. And we should prepare for that." Whitney taps her pen against the pad of paper. "But if we look back over this in a few weeks' time and you still don't want to get anything out of the divorce, then we don't have to go to court."

"I thought people always had to go to court…"

"Usually," Whitney corrects. "Usually people go to court. But this is quite a…unique case. Court is for custody issues, spousal support, division of property… Court is for couples who need someone to rule on their problems because they cannot come to an agreement themselves."

"Well, besides me leaving, I don't think we have any issues… I mean, he can have whatever he wants." _Except me_.

"Then that makes this simple." She pauses. "You know, you actually had perfect timing with this call. I was about to send out your paperwork—"

"Can I, um, can I come get it?"

"You want to deliver it personally? Are you sure?"

"Yes," Lexie replies firmly. "I don't want them just showing up out of the blue."

"They would be sent by the office," Whitney informs her. "And I don't know if it' such a good idea to—"

"No, trust me, I should be the one to give them to him."

There's a pause on the line. "If you're sure," Whitney allows hesitantly after a moment.

"I'm sure."

"Then you can come and pick them up at anytime."

. . .

Mark Sloan is prescribing medication for one of his burn patients when a sharp shout makes him look up.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" Meredith demands, walking up to him and grabbing his arm.

"What?" Mark asks, looking up. He spots Derek a few feet behind her, but he can't tell whose side the neurosurgeon is on. Meredith doesn't reply, she instead drags him into a deserted on-call room and slams the door behind them.

"What do you think you're doing with my sister?" Meredith shouts as soon as they're alone.

"I'm not doing anything with your sister," Mark replies calmly. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because she's _divorcing her husband for you_," Meredith hisses.

Mark does his best to sound shocked. "What?"

"Oh, don't pretend to look all taken aback," Meredith growls at him. "I know this is because of you. I know your part in it all."

"My part?" Mark repeats. "I have a part?"

"Of course you have a part; you're the reason she's leaving him, you jackass." Mark doesn't even pretend to look surprised this time, nor insulted at the moniker. He knows Derek most likely told her everything Mark had told him at Christmas. His gaze flickers to the door, where he knows Derek is probably standing guard, with narrowed eyes. _What happened to best-friend confidentiality?_ He thinks, more than a little annoyed at the breach of trust.

"And, Mark, I swear to god—if you so much as do _one _thing to hurt her…" Meredith exhales angrily, shaking her head and turning her back to him.

"Meredith…" Mark begins slowly, staring at her back as genuine shock colors his tone. _Is she…giving us her blessing? _"What…exactly…are you saying?"

The general surgeon pivots slowly, staring at him with her hands on her hips all the while. Mark licks his lips, suddenly nervous and realizing how important Meredith's approval might be.

"Are you saying this is… okay?" He asks hesitantly.

"Okay?" Meredith replies, her silence rising to a shout again. "Am I saying this is _okay? _Am I saying that you sleeping with my sister for eight years while she was _married _was _okay_?" Meredith yells, stepping forward menacingly. "What the hell do you—"

"Okay, okay, okay," Mark cuts in quickly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"That is _exactly _what you meant and we both know it," Meredith snaps. She shakes her head, and Mark can practically feel the revulsion radiating off her skin towards him. "I can't believe you would think—"

"Okay, I get it," Mark interjects. "You hate me and you think I'm a jackass. I understand that, and you're entitled to your opinion. But…" He steps forward, looking into her eyes. "Mer, just tell me what you were going to say."

Meredith closes her eyes, sighing softly. She opens her eyes a moment later, staring right back at him. Her voice is so cold when she speaks, Mark could swear she was freezing him with every word. "If you do anything to hurt her," Meredith begins slowly. "I will go buy a gun, give it to Jackson, and tell him where to find you."

Mark feels his lips twitch slightly, but forces himself to quickly hide the smile that was starting to form on his face. _She's… okay with this, _he thinks in wonder.A moment later he frowns down at her. "He knows where I am."

"Well," Meredith replies, heading to the door. "Let's hope he doesn't buy a gun and shoot you."

"Meredith," he calls after her. The elder Grey stops by the door, turning to stare at him.

"What?"

"I know you don't trust me, but... I promise you I won't hurt her."

Meredith stares at her for a moment before shaking her head in obvious defeat. "Right," she replies. "Of course you won't. You're Mark Sloan." She smiles mockingly at him. "You don't hurt anyone, do you? You're a saint, right?" She asks sarcastically, stepping outside of the on-call room.

"Mer," Mark calls, following her out. He reaches out to explain to her, but she's already walking away, back to Derek. His best friend just stares at him, shaking his head. _I know, Derek, _Mark thinks. _I never do anything right, do I?_

. . .

_9 PM_

_. . ._

"Hi."

Jackson looks over his shoulder and, upon seeing the folder in his wife's arms, turns back around. Lexie pauses a moment, her fingers tapping the folder idly, before stepping forward and standing across the counter to face him.

"I have some papers."

"I can see that," he replies, focused on the journal before him. He looks up a second later, his eyes critical. "Aren't those supposed to come in the mail?"

"Yes, but I… Well, I asked to give them to you myself."

"Oh yeah? Did you want another chance to look me in the eye and say you're leaving? Wanna see what it does to me one more time?"

"I—Honestly, Jackson, I thought it would be better this way. I didn't just want it to show up at the doorstep out of nowhere."

"Having it show up in your hands isn't much better."

"I'm sorry, I just… Here," she says, passing him the folder. "You can just—look them over and then just… Just meet with a lawyer and we can… do this."

"Yeah," Jackson replies with fake cheer as he snatches the papers out of her outstretched hand. "Let's do this! Let's get divorced!"

Lexie sighs. "Look, I was just trying to be—"

"I don't care what you were trying to be," Jackson cuts in, getting to his feet and heading to the door. "I already know who you really are."

"So—What?" Lexie asks, following him to the front door. "You're just going to walk out every time I try to talk to you?"

"No," Jackson replies, pulling on his coat. "I'm going to walk out every time you make me remember that you've been sleeping with Mark Sloan." He nose scrunches in aggravation. "I don't need any reminders."

"I didn't say one thing about him—"

"Yeah, well, somehow the word 'divorce' does it just as well. Weird, huh? Maybe the two are connected," he muses, stepping out the door.

"Jackson," Lexie calls, pulling the door he'd tried to shut open and following him outside. "Where you going?"

"I'm not sure if you need to know that," he calls over his shoulder as he unlocks his car.

"Well are you going to look over—"

"The divorce papers?" Jackson asks. "Yes, I will get _right _on that. I'm actually headed to the attorney's office right now."  
>"Jackson, if you'd just—" Lexie tries to call him back, but soon her voice is forgotten as he revs the engine, backs out of their driveway, and heads towards downtown Portland without another glance.<p>

. . .

Jackson's downing glass after glass of whiskey a few hours later. He had lost count of how many an hour or two prior. He's been staring at a couple at the far end of the bar for the past fifteen minutes, wondering why they keep changing shape. Each time he blinks, they're strangers. Each time he looks back over, they're strikingly familiar, drawing up memories he wishes he could forget.

. . .

_ "Oh, Lexie, I just got a page—Bailey wants us back in the ICU, so…"_

_ She turns her head to look at him, but barely has a chance to meet his eyes before a soft finger beneath her chin pulls her gaze forward, back to him._

_"Can you deal with it, please?" She murmurs, her lips barely moving as the almost inaudible words travel back to him. Even from ten feet away, he can tell her question isn't even a response. Even from ten feet away, he can tell she had forgotten their conversation the moment she met _his_ eyes again. _

_ Jackson nods, shaking his head slightly at the idea that she'd brush him off like that, but heads back toward the bar nonetheless. He takes one glance back, foolishly wondering if she's looking for him. She isn't. _

_When he looks back, it's clear that neither of them have eyes for anyone but the other. From his vantage point, Jackson can only see the man, but what he sees is enough to figure that her expression must mirror his. A look of such serenity and honest love forms in the man's eyes as he looks down at the woman before him. His hand softly caresses the side of her face as she tilts her chin towards him, unable to help herself from wanting more. Unable to stop herself from wanting him._

_ The man ducks down just as she's straining upwards to meet him, but it's her hands that cover his face this time and draw him closer. It's she who moves forward, barely allowing any space between them despite the public setting. It's she who holds onto him and kisses him like she's dying for the breath only he can give her._

_Even walking away, Jackson could see the desperate way she reached up to kiss him, and the relief like nothing else alive in his eyes when she did so._

_. . ._

Jackson wishes he'd never looked back. Just that one image seems to feed his imagination, and as much as he wishes it wouldn't happen, he can't stop the torturous scenes playing through his head just like the night she told him. He can't get the images of them out of his head. Even though he's never seen them so much as kiss in the last eight years, it's as if his mind has gone in overdrive. Things he shouldn't be able to see and never _has _seen keep floating through his mind, electric and alive.

He squeezes his eyes shut, twisting his face away from the couple at the far end of the bar. It can't be. It just can't be.

And it isn't. He takes one more quick look—and the woman's hair has returned to it's normal blonde shade, and the man has shrunk by a good four inches. It isn't them. He blinks quickly as if to check, and when he does, they're back. He groans, rubbing his hands over his face and grabbing his drink again. Maybe another round will help.

"What are you doing with those papers there?"

Jackson looks up as he polishes off what could be either his fifth or fiftieth drink, staring at the man before him. The bartender is standing in front of him, his arms spread out on the counter. He nods towards to the manila folder sitting beside his drink. Jackson looks up blearily.

"Gettin' divorced," Jackson replies with a hand supporting his chin.

"Oh." The bartender frowns. "Sorry, man."

Jackson waves a hand. "Yeah, yeah. I've heard it before."

"What happened?" The man asks, curious. "If you don't mind me asking, that is," he adds quickly.

"Oh, yeah, no big deal. Everyone knows already, it seems." He lets out a long, boozy breath. "Got cheated on."

The bartender offers him a sympathetic frown. "Again. Sorry."

"Yeah." He holds up his left hand, and opens his mouth to speak. "We were married…" He trails off, staring at the gold band. He turns his hand around in wonder. _How many more days until it isn't there anymore? _He drops his hand a moment later, looking back up at the bartender. "We were, uh, married six years."

"That's a while."

"Seemed like it." He turns the glass in his hands. "That is, until I found out she'd been screwing around for eight."

The bartender winces. "Life sucks, huh?" He asks after a moment.

"Yeah," Jackson replies, pushing his glass forward for another. He glances to his phone, keys, and divorce papers sitting on the counter. He runs his fingertips over his cell lightly. "Life sucks."

. . .

A shrill ringing noise wakes Mark from his sleep. He rolls over in bed, reaching out blindly to his bedside counter. For a minute he debates whether or not he should throw the offending thing at the wall, but if someone calling this late, it must be serious. He sighs. _It's probably Hunt._

He glances at the caller ID before answering the phone. 503 area code. _Portland_.

"Lexie? You okay?" Mark asks hurriedly, already more awake than asleep, his mind going crazy with possible scenarios she's calling him from.

"Ha…" A male voice laughs. "You _would_ think it was her."

_. . ._

_Excuse me, please, one more drink_

_Could you make it strong, cause I don't need to think_

_She broke my heart_

_My grace is gone_

_One more drink and I'll move on_

_. . ._

_One drink to remember, then another to forget_

_Oh, how could I ever dream to find sweet love like you again?_

_One drink to remember and another to forget_

_. . ._

_One more drink and I'll move on_

_One more drink and I'll be gone_

_One more drink and my grace is…_

_Gone._

_. . ._

_Author's Note: So did you guys see Shonda Rhimes' tweet from a few days ago? She said there was an 87% percent chance things would work out for Mark and Lexie. Seeing as she's lied so much in the past, though, I kind of half hate her for even sending that tweet. (False hope and all that, you know...) The other half of me, of course, is jumping for joy and grabbing onto those words like they're a life raft and I'm drowning. …I have a very complicated relationship with the Grey's writers, if you couldn't tell._

_Anyway. What did you guys make of the tweet? And of the chapter? Please review! Again, sorry for the late update!_

_PS: This just happens to be my favorite DMB song._


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15:**_

_Author's Note: Guys, I am _**really**_ sorry for the lateness of this update. Unfortunately, you might want to come to expect stuff like this; preseason for fall sports started this week, as well as my SAT course, and school's starting on the 30__th__. I won't have much time to write, but I won't abandon this story, either. (Don't worry!) ...I just might be pretty late in updating. Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you continue to. _

_This one's kind of extra-long, so I hope that makes up a bit for the lateness._

. . .

_3 AM_

. . .

"Avery?" Mark asks, yawning and propping himself up in bed. "What are you calling for? At three AM?"

"I'm callin' to tell you I know you've been sssleeping with my _wife_."

"Soon to be _ex_, I believe," Mark replies before he can hold his tongue. But Jackson just laughs in response. Mark can practically smell the booze through the phone.

"Yes, I'm sure this is a goddamn _party _for you, isn't it?"

"You know, maybe we can have this conversation tomorrow," Mark suggests. "When you're sober. Get some sleep, call me back."

"No, no, no, we're talkin' 'bout this _now_!"

Mark sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. No, this is not a party for me. It's difficult. I never wanted this to happen, not when I started—"

"—fucking my wife?" Jackson cuts in, his voice a menacing growl. "Yeah, how long has that been goin' on anyways? Cause she won't tell me. But it _suuuure_ seems to me to be a long time."

"I really don't think I'm the person to discuss this with you, Avery."

"Well, seeing as Lexie and I no longer sleep in the same bed, let alone talk—that's thanks to _you_, by the way—you're the only other person I can ask."

"And if I don't answer?"

"Well, I'm sure Meredith an' Derek would get a _verrry _interesting phone call, don'cha think?"

"A few months," Mark replies crisply, trying to inject some guilt into his voice without really feeling any. _No need to drag Meredith and Derek into this any more than they already are._

"_Months?_" Jackson cackles. "An' she thinks that enough to break up a _marriage _over? Ha!"

Mark doesn't respond.

"Well, you know, that'd be interesting…if you were tellin' the truth, that is."

"You think I'm lying?"

"You've been doin' it for years," Jackson calls back. "You've been lyin' right to my face for years!"

"Years?" Mark repeats, getting a little worried now. "What makes you say it's been years?"

"Because _SHE _told me!" Jackson yells. "At least she had the balls to tell the truth when I asked for it."

"She told you that?" Mark whispers, completely taken aback. _Why?_

"Yeah, she did," Jackson laughs. "She told me you two've been seein' each other behind everyone's back for years an' years and NO ONE SAID_ ANYTHING_!"

Mark flinches away from the phone at that last bit; Jackson was almost screaming into the receiver.

"And you—you wanna know what else she told me?"

"Not particularly," Mark replies, wanting this conversation to draw a close as quickly as possible.

"She told me she was in _luuv _with you," Jackson singsongs. Mark leans away form his cloying voice; it makes his skin crawl. "She told me she'd _alwaysss_ lov'd you—she told me _right to my FACE,"_ Jackson bellows before suddenly getting quiet. Mark waits for him to continue, but after a couple of seconds, it seems the line is dead. Just as he's about to hang up the phone, though, something stops him.

"And you know—you know what hurt th'most?" Jackson asks quietly, suddenly deflated. "It wasn't that she'd been sleepin' with someone else. It wasn't that she's in love with him. It was _how _she said it. Like—like I wouldn't care and—and it was all already done and I…" There's a pause, muffled by a quiet sniffing sound on Jackson's side of the phone, and Mark wonders if the other man is possibly crying. "I knew I'd lost her."

"Jackson," Mark sighs after a few seconds. "I'm—"

"I'd lost her to _YOU, _you fucking piece of _SHIT!" _Jackson shouts into the phone. "And if you think I'm gonna just sit 'ere and watch her walk away, you're fucking wrong cause I'm _NOT!_ I'll get her back and then _you'll_ be the one sittin' here—"

Mark cuts off Avery's inebriated shouts with the push of a single button. He hangs up the phone, placing it back on his nightstand before rolling back over in bed. He had thought he'd be able to get to sleep right away, to brush off Avery's voice and all that it said, but that theory soon proved to be impractical. Jackson's drunken words rolled through his mind again and again, until Mark knew everything he'd said by heart. Miles away, Lexie knew them too.

. . .

"Let's _go_," Lexie Grey calls angrily to her husband as she walks through the doorway into the almost-empty bar. "Come on, get up."

"Go away," Jackson groans, the same time bartender asks:

"You his wife?"

She turns to the man behind the counter. "I am. You have his keys, I hope?"

"Yeah," the man replies, pulling them out of the cash register. "Here."

"Thanks." Lexie pockets them before turning to her husband. "Come on," she says to Jackson. "Time to go home."

"Home," he laughs, turning his head to stare over at her. "Right."

"I'm not letting you sleep here," Lexie replies, pulling him off the bar stool. "So let's go."

Lexie leads him slowly to the door, her arm wrapped around his waist and most of his weight leaning against her. They're about to head out the door when a man's voice stops her.

"Hey," the bartender calls.

"Yeah?" Lexie twists her head around with some discomfort, still supporting most of Jackson's weight. "What is it?"

He holds up the dark blue folder. "You forgot these."

"Oh," Lexie calls, trying to pivot their bodies at the same time and only succeeding in half-turning the both of them. She frowns, looking back to the man. "Could you…"

He nods, walking towards them and handing her the folder.

"Thanks," Lexie replies, tucking it under her arm. She idyll wonders if Jackson even looked at them at all or simply drank the whole time he was here. "And thanks for taking his keys, too."

The bartender shrugs. "It's my policy. If I see a guy getting hammered like that, I tend to not want him to drive."

"Right," Lexie replies. "Well, thanks," she says again before turning back to the door.

"You two getting divorced?"

Lexie closes her eyes, trying to hide her annoyance. _He_ **would** _tell the damn bartender. _She glances to Jackson, but he seems half-asleep—so out of it, Lexie doubts he's even listening to their conversation. "Yeah," she replies after a moment. "We are."

"Well… If you don't mind me asking… Why did you show up?"

Lexie stares at the man for a moment, not sure what to say. "Well, I couldn't just leave him here…"

"Yeah, but you could've called one of his buddies to come and get him. How'd you even know where he was?"

Lexie grimaces, adjusting Jackson's weight against her. "This isn't the first bar I've stopped at."

The man narrows his eyes, glancing between them. "You've been out searching for him?"

"Like I said, I couldn't just leave him here," Lexie replies. "And besides, he had the car and I didn't want him driving off a cliff or something. By the way," she adds. "If I leave one of the cars here, can I come and get it tomorrow?"

"Yeah, whatever," the man shrugs. "It won't get towed or nothin'."

"Good," Lexie replies, turning back to the door again and dragging Jackson along with her. "We'll, uh, get out of your way, then." She turns the knob, throwing it open and trying to push the both of them through it at once. "Damn it," Lexie mutters when she drops the files. "I just…"

"Here," the man calls. He bends down to pick up the folder, passing it to her before transferring Jackson from her to him. "I can take him out to your car."

"Oh, you don't have to…"

The bartender nods towards the door. "Just lead the way."

Lexie stares at him for a moment before walking out into the cold night, holding the door open for them. When they reach Lexie's car a moment later, she quickly unlocks it, tossing the papers in the passenger seat and opening the back door so the man can slide Jackson's probably-unconscious body inside. Though Jackson's slumping towards the middle of the car, the man manages to hold him still long enough to buckle the seatbelt around him.

"Thanks," Lexie says again, finding herself smiling at the stranger. She's only just realizing how much more difficult this would have been alone.

"Hey, don't mention it," he replies. "I, uh, hope you try and work things out."

"Yeah," Lexie replies half-heartedly. "I don't really think that'll happen."

He shrugs. "You're being civil to each other. That's a start."

"Civil?" Lexie asks with a laugh. "Did you hear him screaming on the phone?"

"Yeah, but that wasn't at you."

Lexie shakes her head. "Oh, he's screamed at me plenty."

"Well… It was good of you to come and get him, anyway."

"Yeah," Lexie replies, walking to the driver's door. "I guess." She gives the man a half-smile and a grateful nod before slipping inside and driving away.

. . .

As Lexie's driving home, the bartender's words stick in her head. They play on a continuous loop, and the more she remembers them, the scarier they get. _What if things somehow _did_ work out between Jackson and I? What if I was stuck here forever? What if I can't be with Mark? _Lexie shakes her head at these thoughts, condemning them as ridiculous and far-fetched. _I served papers, anyway. It's already begun._ Wishing this thought could bring her comfort, yet finding herself feeling hollow when it doesn't, Lexie instead focuses on the darkened streets of their neighborhood, trying to bring her mind to a happier place. _Divorce proceedings will only take a few months,_ she reminds herself, wishing she were in Seattle and not chauffeuring her unconscious husband home. _Then I'll be back. It'll only be… _Lexie exhales quietly at the amount of time. …_a few months._

. . .

"Wake up," Lexie calls a couple minutes later, opening the door back door. "We're here."

"Where?" Jackson mutters, yawning as Lexie reaches over him to unbuckle the seatbelt.

"Home," Lexie replies. She grabs his hand, pulling him out of the car and towards their front door. "Let's get inside and go to sleep."

. . .

_4 AM_

. . .

"Get in the bed and _go to sleep_," Lexie orders tiredly as she sits him on top of the bed. She stares at him, sighing when he hasn't made a move to get under the covers. "So I can too."

"Lexie," he mutters, staring at his shoes.

"What?" She asks impatiently, standing at the foot of the bed.

"I need to…ask you something."

"You can ask me tomorrow," Lexie replies. "It's four in the morning, Jackson. Get in the bed. You need to go in tomorrow, you have to sleep this off now."

"No, no, I have to know."

Lexie sighs. "Fine. What is it?"

"Were you…" He squeezes his eyes shut, and Lexie gets this idea he's trying very hard to remember what he's going to say. "Were you with him…here?"

Lexie stares at him, not knowing what to say despite knowing the answer. "Here…"

His eyes lift to her now, his head tilting to the left, as he speaks. "Here," he repeats, jerking his head towards the bed.

"What? No!" She replies immediately, shocked he'd even suggest it. "God, Jackson, I wouldn't—"

"You're lyin'," he cuts in, staring at her. "You're lyin' to me, aren't you?"

The outrage Lexie had felt moments ago fades away, replaced with fatigue. "Right," she sighs. "You always think I'm lying."

"Yeah," Jackson mutters darkly, clumsily pulling off his shoes. "I wonder whose fault that is, huh?"

"You know what?" Lexie asks, raising her hands in defeat. "Believe what you want. I don't care. But if you want to know the truth, it's _no, _he was never here." She stares at him for a long moment before heading to the door. "I'm going to bed."

"What?" He calls after her. "You not sssleepin' here?"

"Jackson." His name comes out as a long sigh. "I thought we already sorted this out. You're in here; I'm out there."

"If he were here, you'd be in the same bed, wouldn't you?" He shoots back, a rare moment of clarity through his intoxication.

"He isn't here."

"Yeah, well, if he was."

Lexie shakes her head, annoyed at his words. "If you're trying to get me back, you should know that none of this is helping."

"Who ever said I wasss tryin' to get you back?"

Lexie stares at him, but doesn't bother mentioning the phone call she overheard in the bar. "I just assumed," she replies instead.

"Well, I'm not," he mutters, pushing himself further back on the bed. "You're as good as gone, anyway," he half-grunts. "And ya know what happens when people assume things."

"I—"

"For instance," he continues, holding his index finger aloft. He resembles a flat-out drunk college professor that's still trying to teach. "I _assumed _that being married to you meant there was no one else involved, but I was wrong too!" He grins drunkenly at her. "We've made assholes out of each other, haven't we? That's what happens when you assume things."

"Go to sleep," Lexie tells him, walking to the door and shutting it behind her before he can say another word.

. . .

When Lexie wakes up the next morning, Jackson's already gone. She'd half-expected him to take the day off, but she wasn't at all surprised that his work ethic—or need to get out of the house—overruled his sure-to-be-killer hangover.

She heads outside, coming face to face with rapidly falling snow and realizing that she has no car. She closes her eyes, noting that Jackson took hers to work and his is sitting at some cheap bar on the far side of town. She shivers against the cold, wishing she had something warmer than jeans to wear, and heads out towards the bus stop a few blocks away.

. . .

Getting to work had been a hassle—she'd arrived thirty minutes late due to traffic and bus stops—but luckily, all of her operations went smoothly. Thankfully, there wasn't anything too hard on her docket today. Lexie wasn't sure she'd be able to get through anything much more difficult than a couple appendectomies, considering the insane amount of sleep deprivation she was currently battling.

It's almost noon when she hears her phone ring in her pocket. She was on her way, half-starving, to the cafeteria, but decided to duck into an empty exam room to answer the call.

"Lexie Grey."

"Hey, Lex, it's me."

Lexie smiles at the voice, recognizing it immediately as her sister's. "Hey, Molly! I haven't heard from you in forever!"

"I know," her sister agrees. "So how've you been? Anything new?"

"Uhm," Lexie stalls. "Not really."

"Well, I have something to tell you."

"Oh, yeah?" Lexie asks. She can hear the excitement behind her sister's voice, and Lexie knew that asking about her personal life had only been out of common courtesy. This is what she'd really wanted to talk about.

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" Lexie laughs with a wide smile spreading across her face. "Again? What is this, the tenth?"

"Fourth," Molly corrects, and Lexie can hear the grin in her voice.  
>"Hey, congratulations, though," Lexie replies warmly. "That's fantastic!"<p>

"Thank you."

"How far along are you?"

"About fourteen weeks," Molly replies. "Eric's really excited too."

"That's great," Lexie smiles.

"But what about you?" Molly asks. "Nothing, really? I haven't talked to you in months and _nothing's_ happened in all that time?"

"Well, I…" Lexie searches her brain, trying to come up with anything but the truth. "I might be moving back to Seattle," Lexie replies before she can stop herself. _Why did I say that?_

"You are?" Molly asks excitedly. "Really? Why?"

"I just…" Lexie thinks quickly, trying to come up with an excuse without dragging her pending divorce and Mark into this. "It's…It's home, you know?" Lexie bites her lip, suddenly feeling an overwhelming rush of homesickness come over her at the word. It takes her a second to calm down and speak again. "And I just… I, uh, I miss it. I feel like I belong there." _I miss him, _Lexie corrects herself internally. _I belong with him._

"Well, that's great," Molly smiles. "We'll be closer, then."

"Yeah, by one state line," Lexie chuckles. "You're still…" She's about to continue when an idea pops into her head. _It's only one state line. _"Molly, I—I have to go, but congratulations, okay? I'm so happy for you, and for Eric. That's really amazing."

"Thanks, Lex," Molly replies quickly, without questioning the rapid change in pace of the conversation. She's used to these sorts of interruptions during Lexie's workday. "Talk you later."

Lexie hangs up her phone, heading to the nearest computer before she can lose her nerve or think twice.

. . .

7 PM

. . .

"Jackson?" Lexie calls, opening their front door. When there's no response, she moves quickly to the bedroom, grabbing a small suitcase from the closet on the way. She drops it on the bed, unzips it, and is about to start piling clothes inside when she hears her phone ring. She glances at it, about to answer the call when she realizes it's a number from the hospital. Lexie closes her eyes, knowing she should answer, but not feeling at all in the right mindset for childcare or surgery at the moment. She'll explain to her boss why she ran out partway through her shift later, but right now, she can't stand to talk to anyone else. She hits the silent button on her cell, thankful that they haven't paged her and even more thankful that Jackson seems to still be working.

. . .

The taxi she'd called arrives fifteen minutes later, and Lexie is dragging a small suitcase behind her when she hears a car come down the road. She doesn't look or wonder who it is—until it pulls into the driveway. Recognizing the car and the driver, Lexie almost jumps out of her skin. "What—what are you doing here?"

Jackson shrugs, closing the door as he gets out of the car. "It's my house." He stares at the bright-yellow car sitting in their driveway. "What's with the taxi?"

"No, I mean, why are you here in the middle of your shift?"

He points to the house. "I forgot a chart; I was looking over it a few days ago…" He trails off, his eyes latching onto the suitcase in her hand. "Where are you going?"

"S—Seattle," Lexie replies, trying to keep her voice level and look him in the eye.

"You're going to _Seattle_?" He asks abruptly, his eyes widening as if she said she was going to Shanghai.

"Yes. I am." She feels like groaning aloud when she sees him fold his arms across his chest a moment later. _Here it comes. God, I should have lied, _she thinks, but banishes the thought quickly. He'd know either way.

"And where will you be staying?" He asks curtly.

She stares at him for a moment before tilting her chin towards him. "Why do you want to know?"

Jackson shrugs indifferently. "In case I need to get a hold of you."

"I have a cell phone." After a few second of silence, she gives in. "I'll be at Mer's, if you must know."

"You know," Jackson replies offhandedly, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. "I would _really_ appreciate it if you didn't lie _right _to my face after all this."

"I'm—"

"I mean, you can just come out and tell me you'll be at his place. I already know," he replies as the surprise flickers across her face. She hadn't thought he'd wanted to mention it, which is why she didn't either. _But I suppose I should know by now, _Lexie thinks, remembering what he'd said last night, _that he doesn't bother skirting around the topic._ "I can connect the dots, Lex," Jackson is saying when she looks back up. "Now that I have the central piece, the rest of the puzzle is falling into place."

Lexie frowns. "Well, I'm sorry that I didn't want to—"

"What?" Jackson cuts in, his voice as cold as the air around them. "You didn't want to rub it in my face?" He takes a step towards her, leaning forward if getting ready to unveil a hidden secret. "Newsflash: you do it everyday. I already know you've been fucking him for a near-decade, what's a few more weeks of torture, huh?"

Lexie purses her lips, forcing herself not to reply.

Jackson smiles ruefully at her, leaning backwards again. "Ah, you can't even say you aren't sleeping with him anymore, can you? Because it won't be true, anymore, will it?"

Lexie stares up at the sky, pretending she can't hear him. The sky is just a haze of gray clouds hiding the sun.

"Is it going to a _glorious _reunion?" He taunts. Lexie can see the sneer on his face when she looks back down at him. "Go on," he nods. "Run off to Seattle, why don't you?" He calls, turning towards the house.

"Jackson."

He looks back at the sound of his name, and Lexie wishes he'd stop smiling like that. "Oh, and when you're finally free of me," Jackson calls, "is he going to get down on one knee and propose, too?"

Lexie sighs, looking away to avoid his mocking grin. "I'm going to go to the airport, okay? I'll be back in a few days. You should probably meet with a lawyer."

"I'll do that," he replies, heading back to the house as if their conversation bores him. Lexie stares at him for a moment before walking down their driveway in the direction of the bright yellow taxi at the curb. Just as she's about to reach it, her husband's voice floats out to her.

"Oh, and Lexie?" Without meaning to, her head turns at the sound of her voice. She can still spot that damn grin on her face before making herself turn away. Whatever he has to say, she's sure she doesn't want to hear it. "Give Mark a hug and a kiss for me, will you?" His saccharine voice makes her want to punch something. "Cause I miss him too. And I can't _wait _to see him."

Lexie's only response is to turn her back to him, open the taxi, and slam the door shut, loud enough that the whole car rattles a bit and she can hear the sound reverberate in the empty neighborhood. "Sorry," she mutters to the driver, wishing that one _slam _was enough to erase all of Jackson's words from her mind.

The driver meets her eyes in the rearview mirror, and she can tell he's more than a little upset at her rough treatment of his vehicle. "Airport, right?" He asks, already pulling away without waiting for an answer.

Lexie nods, facing forward. "Right."

. . .

Jackson's words run rampant through her mind the entire time she's at the Portland International Airport. Lexie can't make her brain think about anything else, and as she walks through security, she wishes she had something to drown out his voice. It's only a half-hour later, when they're calling the first couple zones of the plane to board, that Lexie realizes she'd never even asked Mark if she could come. She just assumed he'd be okay with it, but what if he wasn't? Sure, she could keep her word to Jackson and stay at Meredith's, but no doubt her sister's eyes would watch her every movement. The last thing she needs is more scrutiny. So it's either Mark's place—if he lets her—or a hotel. _Great._

Luckily, since she bought the ticket so late, Lexie's in the fifth and last zone of the plane; she'll have ten or fifteen minutes before they start calling her group. She pulls her cell out of her purse, clicking through her contacts quickly to get to his number. _Please let him not be in surgery. Please answer the phone._

"Mark?" Lexie whispers into her phone when she hears the line click open.

"Lex?" He asks, confused at her hushed tone. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just tired," she replies quickly. She takes a breath before speaking, suddenly aware of the very real possibility that he might not want her showing up without warning like this. "Can I—can I come home, please?" She asks, her voice thick.

"What happened?" Mark sits forward in his chair, her hurt voice speeding up his heartbeat. He leans against the desk before him, wishing he could see her face. "What'd he do?"

"No—nothing. He didn't do anything," Lexie lies immediately. "I—I was talking to my sister and Mark, please, I just—I want to come home."

"Well—okay," he says automatically. "Sure you can come."

Lexie lets go of the breath she'd been holding; her next two words come out coated in obvious relief. "Thank you."

"Sure. Let me…" He taps his pen against the desk rapidly, thinking. "Let me talk to Richard about getting some time off so I can be with you, alright? So you don't have to be alone."

"Okay."

"Book a ticket and tell me the times and then I'll speak to him."

_ "Zones four and five for flight 1027 to Seattle are now boarding in gate C4!"_

"I—I was hoping I could come down as soon as possible, actually," Lexie manages, feeling her nerves spark with the announcement and sudden rush of people heading towards the plane. She finds herself worried it might take off without her, leaving her behind in Portland. Even though Mark's with her on the phone, he's still miles away. He's still not here.

"Okay," Mark nods, bringing her thoughts back to their conversation. "Like I said, book the ticket and tell me the dates—"

"Mark," Lexie manages, too nervous to keep it in anymore. "I'm boarding the plane."

"I'm gonna go find the Chief," he replies without missing a beat, already heading out of his office. "Text me when you land. My shift ends in an hour; just head to the apartment and I can meet you there."

Lexie closes her eyes, biting her lip to hide the relief in her smile. "Okay, I will. And Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for this. Really."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you soon."

. . .

Though Lexie tried to sleep on the short plane ride, she couldn't make herself fall into unconsciousness, not even for a couple minutes. She was mentally and physically exhausted beyond belief from everything that had happened in the last couple days, but even so… sleep eluded her. Jackson's words echoing non-stop through her ears didn't help much, either.

_Go on. Run off to Seattle, why don't you?_

. . .

_10 PM_

. . .

Lexie fits her key into Mark's doorknob, her fingers shaking, and turns it until the lock _clicks_.

"Hey," Mark calls, standing up from the couch when he hears the door open behind him.

"Hi," Lexie replies, twisting her key out of the lock and putting it back in her purse. "I'm here." Lexie smiles, spreading her arms in what she hopes is a convincing _ta-da _gesture. But it, along with her smile, feels weak and forced to her. _Give Mark a hug and a kiss for me, will you? Cause I miss him too. And I can't _**wait**_ to see him._

"You're here," Mark smiles, stepping forward as her arms fall. The happiness on his face isn't forced at all. He reaches out, brushing the pad of his thumb against her cheek lightly. "So what's with the spur-of-the-moment visit?" He asks with an easy smile, letting his hand drop. "Not that I mind it," he adds.

"I, um, I just missed you," Lexie explains, feeling her voice getting smaller and smaller. "And I…wanted to come home."

"Home?" Mark questions, coming to standstill a foot from her with a smile playing on his lips. He glances around. "_This_ is home?"

Somehow, Lexie manages to smile back. "For me, it is. You are."

"You're my home, too, then," Mark replies softly, pulling her into a hug. Lexie sighs at the contact, feeling herself almost collapse in his welcome arms. Mark can feel the shift of her weight, and he pulls her closer. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly, his words drifting past her ear.

"I'm fine." Lexie wishes her voice didn't come out as a whisper.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." _I can't bother him with this, _Lexie thinks. _He doesn't deserve this, not after everything else I've put him through._

"Something happened." He pulls back so he can look her in the eye. "You called me at two in the morning last night, Lexie. And then you flew down here without warning, after begging to come back. Again, I don't mind it, but just tell me—what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lexie repeats, but the word catches in her throat.

"Lex," Mark murmurs softly. He reaches up, brushing her hair back from her back lightly. "Just tell me what's wrong, okay? I want to help."

"I…" Lexie bites her lip, looking away. "I told him," she admits finally.

"I know."

"And I—Wait," Lexie asks, her eyes flying to his. "How do you know?"

Mark grimaces. "We, uh, might've spoken. He called me last night, drunk. But I assumed he was only calling because you told him the truth."

"Oh, right," Lexie sighs, remembering picking him up from the bar at 3 AM. And all their fighting from the previous day._I have _never_done anything to deserve this. You know that, don't you? You realize how unfair this is? You realize what you're doing to me? What you've _**done**_to me? _"I did," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

"Lexie," Mark says quietly. He reaches up, stroking her cheek softly when he sees there are tears swimming in her eyes, second from falling from her lids. He takes a half step forward, but pauses, unsure if he should be the one comforting her. "Lex…"

"I broke his heart," Lexie manages, her raw voice cracking as she breaks down herself.

Mark can't stop himself this time; he moves forward, taking her in his arms quickly. The second he wraps his arms around her, she's clutching him closer, weeping now.

"I'm sorry, baby," he murmurs into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

"I just...Oh, god, his face. Mark, the way he looked at me...it was like I'd killed his whole family. I—I _destroyed_ him."

"I'm sorry," Mark whispers, lifting a hand from her back to stroke her hair lightly. "I'm sorry."

"I'm always going to be that person," Lexie whispers into his shoulder. "I'm—I'm always going to be the woman who ruined his life. I'll be the reason he's never—never going to trust anyone ever again. It'll be because I damaged him so badly."

"Oh, Lexie…"

"It's true. I've ruined him. He hates me."

"I'm sure—"

"And he—he knew," Lexie continues, pulling back to look him in the eye. "That was the worst part, once I told him he suddenly knew everything, like it all clicked into place for him. He—he realized that—that everything was a lie. He knew why I was crying on my wedding day, he knew why I always wanted to come back to Seattle, he _knew _where I went every night. Oh, god, he knows everything," Lexie cries, collapsing into his arms again. "He won't even look at me," she manages a moment later. "And I… I can't even blame him for that. I can't blame him at all. I'm a terrible person. I'm just—awful."

"Not to me, you aren't."

"Mark."

"It's true."

"You aren't terrible or awful, you're _brave_."

"Please," Lexie scoffs, stepping back and wiping her face.

"I'm serious," Mark continues. "If the situation were reversed and I was the one married… Lex, I'd probably just serve papers and walk out. But you went and faced him and owned up to what you did. That's brave. You did that to both of us, and I can only imagine how difficult it was."

Lexie shakes her head. "Don't do that. Don't act like I'm some sort of selfless person. He's right, I'm just a lying, cheating, heartless _bitch_."

Mark's eyes widen at her words. "He _called _you that?"

"No." Lexie sighs. "But he wanted to. He didn't quite get to the 'heartless bitch' part. Stopped himself, but I could see it coming. It's true, anyway. I wouldn't have told him he was wrong if he said it."

"I would have."

"Mark."

"You aren't heartless," Mark assures her. "You're just very guarded."

"I don't think it makes a difference to him."

"It makes a difference to _me_." He pauses, exhaling softly. "And I'm so sorry I made you do that."

Lexie shakes her head, looking him in the eye. "No, no, _you_ didn't make me do anything."

"What?" His forehead creases. "Of course I did. I made you choose, Lex. You didn't want to, and I should've listened to you when you said it was a bad time. I shouldn't have pushed you."

"And what?" Lexie asks. "You'd see me next Christmas? I'd be back here at one in the morning? We'd still be sneaking around?"

Mark stays silent.

"I couldn't have done that to you. It would've been unacceptable."  
>Mark sighs. "But Avery..."<p>

"Mark, _any_ time would've been a bad time for him. And you didn't make me pick you," she adds. "_I_ made me pick you. _You_ made me _pick_. You made me do something I should have done eight years ago."

"But everything I said...all I wanted was you. I wasn't thinking of him. And I—"

"And you shouldn't have been," Lexie finishes for him. "That's my job. You made me pick, you suggested an answer, but I was the one who made the choice. I was the one who picked you over him." Lexie sighs. "And even though I feel like the biggest bitch in the world for doing what I did—and for telling him the way I did—it had to be done. _It had to be done_, Mark, okay?"

He takes a breath before responding. "Okay."

"And I don't regret anything."

"I find that hard to believe," Mark notes dryly.

"The only thing I regret is waiting so long to leave him. This should have happened years ago."

"I'm still sorry I made you go through that," he tells her honestly. "If I'd been able to do something…"

"No," Lexie murmurs, shaking her head. "Your involvement would only have made it worse for him."

"I know," Mark agrees. "But I wish there was some way I could help you."

"You're helping me right now," Lexie replies. "You're here to remind me why I'm doing this, why I'm struggling through this and who I'm doing it for."

"But is there any way I can _actually_ help?" Mark asks quietly.

Lexie shakes her head again at the offer. "There's nothing you can do." She points at him. "And this had to happen, so I don't want you to feel bad about it."

"Feel bad about it? It's a little too late for that, Lex."

"You…you have regrets?" Lexie whispers, feeling her heart break all over again. _Oh, god…_

"No, no, of course not," Mark replies quickly, seeing her face fall. "Lex, there are never any regrets. Not with you. I just…" He exhales softly, looking her in the eye. "Yours isn't the first marriage I've broken up, remember."

"Oh."

"And as much as I'd like to, I can't go through something like that and not feel anything. I _do _feel bad. I'll always feel bad."

"I'm sorry," Lexie whispers.

Mark shakes his head at her apologies, telling her they aren't necessary. "Come here," he says, leading her towards the couch. "Sit down." He leaves for a minute, heading to the kitchen and returning quickly with a glass of water. "Here," he says, handing it to her.

Lexie glances at the glass, confused.

"For your throat," Mark explains. Lexie takes a sip, immediately feeling the liquid cool her sore esophagus.

"Thank you," she whispers, finishing the glass and setting it down. He sits down beside her. They're quiet for a minute before Mark places his hand on hers.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Lexie stares at him, swallowing slowly. "I'll be fine." She looks into his eyes. "I have you, don't I?"

"You have me," Mark agrees. He's about to say something when he sees the look on her face. Her eyes, usually a bright brown, have dulled and darkened; her eyelids are almost half-closed. And she's leaning towards him. Before he can think or move, her lips are on his, demanding and desperate in their kisses as she leans towards him. Mark returns the kiss, more out of habit than actually wanting to; he shifts backwards when he can feel her moving forward, sense her body surging towards his.

"Lexie," Mark manages through her almost-non-stop assault on his mouth. "Maybe we shouldn't…"

"Why?" Lexie whispers back, her voice breathless as she holds his face within her hands.

"Because," Mark murmurs, reaching up to remover her hands. "You're…not ready for this right now."

"What?" Lexie asks, her voice sharp as she pulls back. Her eyes meet his for the first time since she'd kissed him a minute ago. "I kissed you, not the other way around."

Her defensive tone brings a slight smirk to Mark's lips. "Believe me, I know," he replies, putting his hands on her shoulders and angling her body slightly away from his. "But you're pretty vulnerable right now, Lex. I don't think we should—"

"Mark," Lexie cuts in with a smile. "I'm not vulnerable."

"You just spent the last twenty minutes crying, telling me how you ruined his life," Mark states. "You're vulnerable."

"That doesn't change the fact that I want you."

"Lexie." Mark sighs loudly through his nostrils, trying not to think of her that way. "Not now, okay?"

"Give me one good reason."

"I did! You're not ready for this and—"

"That isn't a reason," Lexie cuts in. "That's an excuse. And who says I'm not ready?"

"Fine," Mark mutters. "You want a reason?" He turns, looking her in the eyes. "I don't want you to regret _any_ part of this—of us being together."

"I couldn't—"

"And you not regretting things means that you can't act on impulse like this," Mark continues. "It isn't you and you'll be sorry about it later."

"I could never be sorry about it," Lexie replies, reaching up to hold his cheek in her hand. "And I act on impulse all the time."

"No," Mark laughs. "You do not. You plan out everything, down to the second."

"I showed up at your hotel room, didn't I? You think I had a lot of forethought with that one?"

Mark rolls his eyes, trying to hide a smile at just the mention of that night. "That was once," he replies. It's quiet for a moment between the two, and as the energy dissipates between them, Mark gets to his feet.

"Come on," he smiles, holding out a hand. "You look dead on your feet. Let's go to bed."

"Yes, because I'm sure leading me to the _bedroom_ won't spark any ideas," Lexie mutters unhappily.

"Come on," he repeats, pulling her to her feet. "You look like hell. When's the last time you slept?"

"I," Lexie beings forcefully, ready to prove him wrong, before losing her voice. _When _**was **_the last time I slept? _There was no way she'd gotten more than three or four hours over the last couple nights. "I don't know," she replies softly, following behind him.

"Well, the next time will be in about five minutes," Mark replies, dropping her hand as they reach the bed. "I can guarantee that." He glances to her jeans and sweater. "You want to change or…"

"No," Lexie replies with a surprising yawn, kicking off her shoes. "No, I'll just sleep like this."

"You sure?" Mark asks, mimicking her movements.

"Yeah," Lexie replies, lying back on a pillow as she slips beneath the large duvet cover. "It's cold anyway." She looks over, noticing him lying above the blankets. "You aren't tired?" She asks through another yawn.

"Not really," he shrugs. "But you are, so I'll just rest my eyes."

"That's a stupid expression," Lexie mutters. "It's almost eleven and you've worked all day. You're probably exhausted too."

"I'm—"

"Come here," Lexie whispers. Mark blinks over at her, puzzled by her hushed words, but he shifts forward a few inches nonetheless. "No, here," Lexie corrects, waving a hand towards herself. He stares at her for a moment, and she takes the opportunity to explain before he moves closer. "I want you near me," Lexie whispers, reaching out and resting her hand on the side of his face. "You haven't been for so long."

There's a faint smile on Mark's lips as he settles closer, so that their faces aren't more than an inch apart. "It's been a couple days," he reminds her.

"It's been a lifetime," Lexie murmurs, tucking her head beneath his and letting her body gravitate towards him. Breathing him in, feeling him so close, she's finally home.

. . .

_You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold_

_You say you want your story to remain untold_

_. . ._

_**But all the promises we make, from the cradle to the grave**_

_**When all I want is you**_

_. . ._

_**You say you want your love to work out right**_

_**To last with me through the night**_

_. . ._

_All the promises we break, from the cradle to the grave_

_**When all I want is you**_

_. . ._

_You; all I want is you_

_You; all I want is you_

_**All I want**_

_**is you.**_

. . .

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading, please leave a review!_


	16. Chapter 16: Part 1

**Chapter 16:**

_Author's Note: I hope you guys are still sticking with me._

_Can I say that I'm incredibly sorry about this late update? I know you guys have been waiting, and I was up till like 11 these last two nights trying to finish it... And I just couldn't. So even though I'm posting this chapter, it's more a a "Chapter 16 Part 1" than a whole chapter. The next one will come soon, hopefully, after I edit a couple more parts._

. . .

_11 PM_

_. . ._

"I looked for you, you know," Lexie murmurs sleepily a half-hour later, lying beside him.

"Go to sleep, Lex," Mark replies tiredly, feeling more asleep than awake himself. "We can talk tomorrow."

"I looked for you," she repeats, her eyes open now as she looks him in the face. "Before I said 'I do,' I looked for you." Mark's eyes snap open, shocked out of his sleep at her confession, but she isn't looking at him anymore. Her next words reach him, drifting over her shoulder, barely discernable. "And you weren't there."

"Lex," he manages hoarsely, feeling his throat constrict. Suddenly, he fells as if he's been the one crying for hours and couldn't breathe. "I…"

"Why weren't you there?" She asks in a whisper despite knowing the answer. She can't bear to look at him when he speaks; she turns away from him. But she feels his hand on her arm.

"I couldn't be." He swallows, staring at her back as if he could look into her face. "You—you have to know already, why I couldn't be there. You have to."

"I do," she whispers, barely audible. She clears her throat after a second, speaking more clearly this time. "I know why, but I just… I wanted you there, Mark."

"Why? What would that have accomplished?"

"I don't know," Lexie mutters, suddenly feeling extremely foolish. "I just wanted you there. I…I wanted you."

"You have me."

"But I didn't. Not then."

"No," Mark disagrees softly. "I've always been yours."

She rolls around to face him, but when she sees the honest look on his face, all that she was going to say floats out of her mind. Only one question remains. "Would you have objected?" She asks softly, finding herself oddly afraid of how he might answer. She can't decide what she wants him to say.

"Objected?"

"Is that why you weren't at my wedding? Would you have objected? Would—would you have stood up and yelled 'no' like in the movies?" She asks with a shaky smile.

"Lex," Mark murmurs, rubbing his eyes with a tired hand.

"I was just wondering," she whispers, the smile falling off her face. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to know."

He shifts upwards, propping himself against the headboard before looking across the room. He speaks without meeting her eyes. "I wasn't at your wedding because I wouldn't have been able to sit there and watch the woman I love marry someone else. Simple as that. I wouldn't have been able to get through the ceremony."

"So... You're saying, if you _were_ there, you would have objected?"

"Maybe not publicly," Mark hedges. "But if I had gone, I sure would have told you how I felt."

"But you didn't go. And you never told me how you felt," Lexie finishes sadly, looking down at the sheets beneath them.

"I told you how I felt," Mark corrects her softly.

Lexie looks over, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. The question 'When?' can be heard from her lips even without her vocalizing it.

"I told you how I felt every time I saw you," Mark continues.

"You did?"

"Every time we were alone, every time I told you I loved you, I was telling you it didn't matter. You could be married, engaged, single, divorced...You could be a mother, you could be a grandmother, you could be no one—I would still love you."

"I'm sorry I put you through that," Lexie whispers, laying her hand on his stomach. "I'm so sorry I did that to you."

"It was worth it," Mark replies.

"Would it...Would it be worth it if I hadn't left him?" Lexie whispers, terrified of the answer. "If we hadn't worked out?"

"It would always be worth it," Mark replies softly, seeing the worry in her eyes. "You are always worth it."

"So are you."

He smiles softly at her. "Go to sleep, okay? 'What if' situations don't matter. All that matters is what's happening right now. What's happening right here."

"I know. I just… I just wanted to know."

Mark smiles sympathetically at her. "And now you do. Sleep, okay?"

Lexie opens her mouth to reply that she isn't tired, only to find that a yawn escapes instead. So she takes his advice, lays her head on a pillow, and closes her eyes.

. . .

_ "You ready for this?" Meredith asks, standing behind Lexie and wringing her hands together._

_ Lexie catches her sister's eyes in the mirror. "Meredith, of course I'm ready." She chuckles. "God, you're more nervous than I am."_

_ "Well, it's a _**big**_—" She tries to project her voice but it falls flat. "It's a big day," she finishes in a normal tone._

_ "I know. It'll all go fine. You don't need to—"_

_ "Oh!" Meredith exclaims, suddenly rushing to the door. "Wait!"_

_ "Mer, what are you—" Lexie asks, twisting around her chair._

_ "We forgot something!" Meredith says, rushing across the room to the exit. "I'll be right back. Just—just stay here, okay? Don't go anywhere."_

_ Lexie smiles at her sister, shaking her head slightly. "I won't disappear, Mer."_

_ "Don't go running off," she calls over her shoulder as she opens the door. "Not even to the bathroom!" She says as she closes it. Lexie smiles, laughing slightly at her sister, before turning back around in her chair and coming face-to-face with her own reflection._

_Lexie glances in the mirror, offering her twin in the glass a reassuring smile before doing a last look-see. She examines her skin, takes in the quiet touches of makeup around her eyes and cheeks with a satisfied gaze. Her eyes move next to examine her hair. Half of it is piled above her head with various sparkling pins. The rest falls about her shoulders in graceful, dark curls. She's reaching up to right a loose lock of hair when a voice behind her makes her freeze, her hand just centimeters from her face._

_"You look beautiful. Don't change at thing."_

_She catches the eye of the intruder in the mirror and Lexie could swear her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. His clear-blue eyes stare right back at her, without even the smallest hint of malice or pain in them. Lexie whirls around in the chair to face him, feeling her heart speed up in double time when she realizes he isn't just hidden in the mirror. He isn't just a figment of her imagination. He's here. "What are you…"_

_"Really," he says, pushing off from the doorfame he had been leaning on and crossing the length of the small, carpeted pale-yellow room without a sound. He offers her a wide, genuine smile. "You look amazing. Picture-perfect. You could be on the cover of one of those magazines and you wouldn't even need any airbrushing."_

_"What are you doing here?"_

_He sighs softly, sitting on the arm of plush armchair just a few feet away from her. "I just wish it was for me," he adds wistfully._

_"Mark, what are you doing here? Everyone is—"_

_"Everyone's in the chapel," he finishes for her with a light smile. "They're all waiting for you, aren't they?" He props one foot up on his other knee, leaning towards her. "Tell me, do you have someone special standing up on that altar? Someone _**worthy**_ taking my place?"_

_"Mark, _**please**_," Lexie whispers urgently. "Meredith will be here any minute—"_

_"And I'll be gone, won't I?" He leans towards her, his devilish smirk accompanied by a whisper that causes her to shiver. "Just like I was never here. A ghost."_

_"You _**are**_ here," Lexie counters lamely, unable to think of anything better to say._

_"I am." He leans back, studying her with ease. "Can you guess why?"_

_ "Some poor attempt to get me to back out of this, I'm sure."_

_"Now, now." He chuckles softly at her phrasing. "Who said it was a 'poor' attempt?"_

_"I'm not leaving here with you," Lexie tells him. "I'm not going anywhere with you."_

_"Ah, but you want to, don't you? I can see it right there." He points at her face. "I can see it in your eyes. You want to run off with me, don't you? Leave everything else behind? Leave _**him**_ behind?"_

_"You can't see anything in my eyes," she snaps, staring him in the face and taking extra care to look angry. It isn't difficult to do, seeing as his ability to read her thoughts has never been a favorite of hers.  
>"Well, now all I see is annoyance." He smiles, as if amused by her trick before glancing away. He looks to his left, inspecting the wallpaper as he hums the opening bars of the bridal march faintly under his breath. Lexie watches him with torn eyes, leaning towards him in her chair, almost to her feet. That's when his eyes snap back to hers, the tune halting in his throat.<em>

_"Now I see love." He grins triumphantly as he catches her eye. "See?" He wags a finger at her. "I knew it was there, hiding beneath the surface. Just like always."_

_"I—I was thinking about him," Lexie excuses; quickly trying to rearrange her face in what she hopes isn't desperate and pathetic longing. "You were humming the bridal march, who else would I be thinking of?"_

_"You were thinking about me," Mark replies smugly. "You're always thinking about me."_

_"Leave me alone."_

_"Why are you marrying him, huh?" Mark clasps his hands together, propping his elbows on his knees. "I'm curious. Really, I am," he adds when she glares at him. "Why didn't you say just say 'no?' We both know you didn't want to say 'yes.' 'No' would be the only other option." Lexie looks away, absentmindedly fixing one of the curls that had fallen by her cheek. "You felt pressured, didn't you?" Mark guesses. "You didn't think you could say 'no' without everyone finding out about us and the whole world falling apart." He sighs softly. "And that would be the end of everything, wouldn't it? If everyone knew that we still loved each other? If everyone knew you were nothing more than a cheater? The world would end, I'm sure. Nothing would be the same."_

_"You don't know what you're talking about," Lexie replies angrily, wishing his words didn't hit so close to home. Wishing his words weren't exactly what she'd been thinking since Jackson asked her just a few months ago._

_"Ah, but I do. I can read you like a book." He tilts his head to the side, a thoughtful look gracing his features. "And the world wouldn't fall apart, you know. Not in reality. Maybe between you and him, sure, but not for everyone else. Not for us. No, our world would only be beginning." He pauses, smiling at the idea. "And things like this happen everyday. Scandals. Breakups. Runaway brides. Grooms left at the altar. Forbidden love." He grins at his own words. "That's a fun one, isn't it? 'Forbidden love.' Even the title is enticing. And who isn't intrigued by the forbidden every once in a while?" His grin widens, bringing his eyes into the smile. "Of course, for us it isn't every once in a while, now, is it? It's a bit more than that, right? It goes a bit _**deeper**_ than that, **doesn't**__ it?"_

_"Shut up. Go away."_

_"Oh, come on, Lexie. You don't really want me to go now, do you?" She glares at him, but his smile doesn't fade. "People discover scandal everyday, you know. The world has never stopped spinning because of it." He lowers his voice to a whisper, as if sharing a secret. "And if you tell him now, no one will be hurt in the long-term. You won't have to drag this out."_

_"I can't," Lexie whispers, more to herself than to him. "It's too late."_

_"No, you're too _**scared**_," Mark corrects. "It's never too late. Not for us."_

_"It_ **is** _too late."_

_"You see," he says, shaking his finger at her, "you _**say**_ that but you don't _**believe**_ it. Not really. You always want there to be a chance for us. You always hold out hope. You never want the clock to run out."_

_"Get out of here."_

_"And it won't," he continues. "Just because you're marrying him doesn't mean we're over.__Something as simple as a little _**marriage**_ couldn't end _**us**_, could it?"_

_"Oh, really?" Lexie counters. "Have you never heard wedding vows before? I realize you've broken them in the past, but some people take them seriously, Mark."_

_"Some people," he agrees. "That phrasing conveniently excludes you, doesn't it?"_

_"I'm marrying him," Lexie states coldly. "End of story."_

_"Oh, not for us. Our story never ends."_

_"It ends now," she replies firmly. "Go away."_

_"Whatever you want," Mark shrugs carelessly, getting to his feet. Lexie stares after him, unable to fathom why he's so blasé about everything. _Why isn't he yelling? Why isn't he fighting? Why isn't he trying harder to change my mind? _A single thought breaks through her confused mind, causing her blood to run cold. _Doesn't he love me anymore? _Her eyes follow him as he heads to the door. She tries to find the words to call him back even though she knows he has to go, but she can't come up with anything. Just as he's about to disappear around the door, though, he turns around. He does so slowly, as if he could sense her longing for him, as if he could hear her thoughts._

_"Oh, and Lex?" He calls, looking over to her as he stands by the door._

_"Yeah?" She asks immediately, hoping her voice didn't come out sounding as desperate as she think it did. From the faint smirk that flashes onto his face, though, she knows it did. _Damn him.

_"I've got surgery till eight tomorrow, but you're welcome anytime after that." He smiles, but somehow she can tell his words aren't meant to mock her. "You have a key, right? Hidden in your purse, where no one will see it?"_

_Lexie feels her cheeks heat at his words. _How does he know that?_ "I am _**not**_ coming—"_

_"I'll see you at eight-thirty, then," Mark smiles. "That'll give us a good few hours, won't it? More than the usual, at least," he reasons, turning to leave. "Oh," he calls over his shoulder as an afterthought, holding his index finger aloft. "I almost forgot! Give my best to the groom, will you?" He shakes his head with a smile. "Lord knows he'll need it."_

_"Wait, I—"_

_"We can talk tomorrow, Lexie," Mark assures her, nearing the door. "I hope your day is wonderful." He smiles across the empty room at her. "I'm sure it'll be everything you want it to be. Maybe even more," he adds with a wink. "It's said to be the best day of the bride and groom's life, isn't it? Enjoy it to the fullest."_

_"But—wait," Lexie calls, getting to her feet and taking a few steps forward to follow him. "Mark, I—"_

_"Lexie," he cuts in patiently. "We can talk tomorrow, all right? I promise you I'll be all ears when you show up. As for now—" He breaks off as the wedding march starts up again, but this time he isn't humming. And it isn't faint. "I think that's your cue." He smiles, looking her up and down. "Knock 'em dead. I know it won't be hard."_

_"Wait!" Lexie shouts, reaching out for him even though they're more than twelve feet away. He looks over, slightly amused at her desperation. "Wait, I need to know—"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Why did you come here?"_

_Mark shrugs nonchalantly. "Just to remind you of what you're doing. You actions have ramifications, you know. Especially to me."_

_"But you said it didn't matt—"_

_"And to remind you that I love you," he continues, his voice dropping to a much more quiet and somber level. He still smiles at her, though, his expression remarkably calm and true to his words despite the situation they're currently cornered within. "I always will. You'll remember that when you're up there, won't you? When you're marrying him, pledging your heart and life to him, you'll remember that I love you? You won't forget that I'm always here, always waiting for you to come back to me?"_

_"Mark, please," Lexie whimpers, her voice breaking and her eyes filling with tears at his words. "Please, I can't… Please, I just—I don't know what to do—I can't—"_

_"Hey," he whispers consolingly as the moisture cascades down her cheeks. "Hey, hey, don't cry, sweetheart," he says, stepping back into the room. His face displays nothing but warmth and concern for her, and Lexie's beginning to wonder how he's kept up this mask the entire time. _

_"You don't need to be sad. You don't need to cry. You look _**so**_ beautiful, baby. Picture-perfect, like I said." He sighs softly, staring into her eyes. "And it'll be alright. This isn't the end, you know. It might not be the same, but we'll still be together; we'll have each other. You'll still see me at work." He offers her a reassuring smile. "Everyday, I promise you. I won't miss a shift. A day won't go by that I won't be there, looking for you, thinking about you, missing you. So don't worry." He pauses, and a hopeful—almost vulnerable with it's yearning for her—look enters his eyes as he stares up at another man's bride. "But you'll…you'll come tomorrow, won't you?" Mark asks, hesitant for the first time since he'd walked into the room. "It's been _**weeks**_ since I've seen you, love. Weeks since I've been able to look in your eyes and talk about something besides surgical procedures. Weeks since I've held you in my arms and… and told you how much I love you." She can see him swallow, but he doesn't lower his eyes. "I should be allowed to do that everyday, but I'm not. You picked him and I respect that but I… I miss you, Lex. I really do." He stares at her, his eyes incredibly soft and his expression so uncharacteristically tender before repeating his question. "Will you come tomorrow?"_

_"Of course I'll come," Lexie answers before she can stop herself, moving between the furniture to stand closer to him. "Mark, I'll—I'll always come. Always."_

_"Good," he replies, a bright smile lighting up his face while hers remains covered in half-dried tear tracks. "Then there's nothing left to discuss. We'll be together. That's all that matters." He takes in her dress one more time before heading out the door. "Lovely," he murmurs softly._

_"Wait! Mark, wait, please!"_

_He turns, the smile still on his face. "We don't have any more time, Lexie," he reminds her. "You have to go, and so do I."_

_"No, no, I—I want to go with you. I'll leave him; I'll come with you." She offers him a hopeful smile, but Mark's face clouds, and for the first time today, his lips twist downward to form a frown._

_"I'm afraid it's too late for that," he informs her grimly._

_"But, no, it—it can't be! I—I haven't married him yet!" Lexie cries desperately. "There's still time, isn't there? You said there was always time." Her voice cracks in despair. "Please, Mark, you said there was always time! You told me there was always time!"_

_"No, I said you always _**wanted** _there to be time," he corrects her patiently. "I never said there actually _**was** _time. And even now there isn't much of it left." His eyes settle upon her as he nods his head towards the door. "Meredith will be here soon to take you to start you future. You've made your decision. You have to live with it now, sweetheart."_

_"But you—you can't leave me," Lexie sobs, more tears escaping from her eyes and falling down her face. "You can't leave me here all alone!"_

_"Oh, you aren't alone," Mark assures her softly. "You've got someone who loves you. He'll be here with you, won't he?"_

_"But I—I don't _**want**_ him," Lexie cries. "I don't want him, I only want you. It's _**always**_ been you, Mark. Always."_

_"Well, you don't need to worry about that either," he smiles. "I'm always with you. I'm here. I won't leave."_

_"But—"_

_"I'll always be here, Lex, right where you can find me, okay? I'll always be here for you, no matter where you go or who you go with. I'll always be here."_

_"But Avery—"_

_Mark shakes his head good-naturedly, smiling at her words as if she'd told a poor joke yet it still managed to make him laugh. "He'll just be your husband. I'm the one you love, aren't I? I'm the only one in your heart?"_

_"Yes." The tears clogging her throat leave Lexie barely able to voice that honest single-syllable word. "Yes, you are."_

_"Then that's all that matters," Mark replies easily. Lexie opens her mouth to argue, but he speaks first. "We can talk tomorrow, okay? Time's running out, though, and I need to leave." He looks her in the eye. "You won't forget what I've told you, will you?"_

_"No," Lexie whispers. "No, I'll never forget."_

_"Good." He smiles, but it's weak this time. Just like the frown that broke through, his carefree smile is starting to disintegrate, to falter. "I love you, Alexandra. Truly, I do." He tries to smile again, but the gesture only flickers upon his face. "Never forget that. Goodbye."_

_"I—"_

_"Lexie!" Meredith calls triumphantly a half-second later, rushing in through the doorway Mark had just been standing in—and Mark. He disappears before Lexie's eyes as if he was only a bank of fog when Meredith steps through the door. As she comes into focus, he fades into the air as if he'd been no more than an apparition. A ghost. "I found it!" She grins, holding a white bouquet aloft. "We can go now."_

_"But…" Lexie trails off, not knowing what to say or how to explain what she just saw. Her eyes are as wide as can be, staring at her sister as if she'd just murdered someone. But then his words return to her: I'll be gone, won't I? Just like I was never here. A ghost._ A ghost, _Lexie thinks. _None of it was real, _she realizes, feeling like she might fall apart as reality clicks into place. _Oh, god, what is happening to me?

_"Oh, no," Meredith says, setting down the flowers as she steps towards her younger sister. "You've wrecked your makeup. And what are you doing, crying back here?" Meredith scolds, fluttering around her. "You were all set before, ready to go, and now you're crying over everything! What could have happened between now and then?" Meredith murmurs, dabbing at her sister's cheeks carefully. Lexie knows it's a rhetorical question, but for half a minute, she considers telling her sister what really had happened while she was gone. But she knows that could never really happen. No one can know. "Lexie," Meredith sighs in disapproval, reaching into her purse and grabbing an emergency makeup kit. "I know you love him, but he'll freak out if you walk up that aisle covered in tears!" She shakes her head, re-touching the damaged areas. "There," she says a moment later, stepping back. "We're ready." She places an all-white bouquet in her sister's trembling hands. "I got the bouquet. Time to go."_

_Lexie nods numbly, following behind her sister dutifully as Meredith reminds her of the various tasks she has to perform: don't trip, don't forget your vows, smile, and don't cry too hard. Though Meredith doesn't mention it, Lexie knows the only thing she's really in danger of is saying the wrong name when the time comes to promise herself to another person forever._

_As she follows behind her sister down the short hallway to the main doorway to the church, Lexie tries to remember that he isn't up there. He isn't waiting for her like they both want him to be. And even though she knows he isn't within a five-mile radius of the church, she still hopes. As Meredith positions her at the end of her line of bridesmaids, Lexie tries to recalls her sister's warnings. But Lexie can't even remember one word out of her short speech. Only one voice is dominating her hearing and thoughts. He may have been a figment of her imagination, but that doesn't mean his words didn't mean anything, right? Words always have a meaning, even if they're created in your own head. They have to. They have to mean something. That had to have meant something._

_Lexie closes her eyes as she hears the large oak doors open, and lets his voice run through her memory, savoring each word. Standing still as the other shuffle forward, she pretends she has one more opportunity to back out. She pretends she had the guts to follow after him when she had the chance. But she opens her eyes and forces a smile to appear on her lips, knowing 'too late' happened much too long ago._

_Time's running out. Don't cry, sweetheart. You look so beautiful. I love you, Alexandra. Truly, I do. You'll remember that when you're up there, won't you? When you're marrying him, pledging your heart and life to him, you'll remember that I love you? You won't forget that I'm always here, always waiting for you to come back to me?_

_I'll be gone. Just like I was never here._

A ghost.

. . .

Lexie wakes with a quiet gasp, her eyes shooting open. She blinks at the sunlight streaming through the curtains; narrowing her eyes and turning them away from the light to avoid being blinded. Despite still feeling her heartbeat quickened from the half-dream half-nightmare she'd just awoken from, Lexie can't help herself from smiling at the sight of the man lying next to her. He's lying on his side and his face is half-obscured by the pillow it's buried in. For one of the few times in her life, she's comforted by the sight of the man lying asleep beside her. She closes her eyes, reminding herself that it was a just a dream, and therefore it wasn't real.

"I love you," she whispers a moment later as she stares into his eyes, which are resting closed just a few inches from hers. She watches as they flicker back and forth beneath their lids. She wonders what he's imagining, and hopes his dreams aren't as painful as hers. "And you were right, it was a mistake. You were always right, I shouldn't have married him. Not when I had you."

Mark stirs a moment later, blinking when he feels her fingertips tracing the side of his face. "What are you doing awake?" He mutters. "You're supposed to be asleep, you sex-crazed freak."

Lexie can't stop herself from laughing at his assumption as she bends forward to kiss him softly. "I'm going to sleep," she assures him.

"Come here," Mark groans, reaching out an arm to pull her body against his. "There," he murmurs as they settle against one another, front to back. "Will you sleep now?"

Lexie nods, and only the pillow supporting her head witnesses her smile. "I love you," she whispers softly, realizing she'd never admitted it in the dream. _Why hadn't I told him I loved him?_ "You know that, don't you?"

"Really?" Mark asks through a yawn. "I thought you hated me for denying you last night." She can feel his silent laughter through the vibrations of his chest and it makes her smile widen. "Mm, of course I do," he murmurs a moment later after the humor's gone. His nose skims just behind her ear as his lips kiss her neck softly. "Love you too, Alexandra," he replies sleepily.

Lexie's almost-closed eyes snap open as her head jerks around to face him. "What did you just say?" She asks quickly, her eyes wide. _I love you, Alexandra. You'll remember that when you're up there, won't you? _"What did you call me?"

"Alexandra," Mark replies slowly, confused at the wild look in her eyes. "It's the original form of your name, isn't it? Do you not want me to use it?"

"No, it's not that, I just—I had a dream and you said almost those exact words. No one—no one calls me that. Ever."

Mark's forehead pulls down in a confused frown. "But you never dream…"

"No, I—I don't, or at least I don't remember the dreams once I wake up, but..."

"But you remembered this one?" He concludes, studying her.

Lexie nods, looking over to him. "It was so real, like it—like it was actually happening. And when I woke up, I—I had to convince myself that it hadn't happened. It was just so real," Lexie whispers to herself, looking down. "Like it had really happened…"

"What…was happening…exactly?" Mark asks slowly.

Lexie bites her lip, unsure of what to tell him as she stares into his half-curious half-worried blue eyes. All that had transpired within her mind during that short sleep had seemed much too private to share, even with him.

"You don't have to tell me," he adds after a moment, sensing her reticence. "I don't need to—"

"You showed up in my bridal suite," Lexie whispers. Mark has to lean close to hear her, despite being unsure if he really wants to listen. "And you—you weren't _you_ but I still... I knew it was you, since it looked like you. You were just..._happy_," Lexie finishes sadly, realizing why his dream-form had seemed so foreign to her. "That's it, you were happy. Despite what was happening, what was going to happen, you had a smile on your face almost the entire time. Like it didn't mean anything that I was marrying someone else. And it—it didn't, I suppose," Lexie murmurs distractedly, staring into the empty air. "Not in the end."

"And what... What happened?" Mark asks nervously. "What did I do when I was there?"

"Nothing," Lexie whispers back, pleased that the honest answer is also the best answer for him to hear. "You just sat there and talked with me. Told me I looked pretty. You told me that you loved me and that what was about to happen..." Lexie bites her lip. "You said it didn't matter. You said you'd always be there for me. You'd always love me. That... That wouldn't change just because I was married."

"It didn't," Mark replies seriously. "And it hasn't." He pauses for a moment, sighing and letting the air slip from his lungs slowly as he closes his eyes. "You really wanted me to come, didn't you? You really wanted me at your wedding."

"Yes," Lexie whispers. "Yes, I wanted you there. More than anything."

"But… _why_, Lex?" He asks, wanting now, more than ever, to understand. "What difference would it have made? Would it have really helped if I went? Would it have changed anything?"

"No," Lexie replies in a whisper, finally realizing what he's been trying to tell her. "It… might've made me feel better, just for a second, but you... It—it would've killed you, Mark. Hurt you more than anything… And I could never—never do something like that to you. You're right, you would never be able to be there."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You haven't done anything. I should be apologizing for guilt-tripping you about the wedding thing."

"I've been torturing you in your dreams, Lex."

"That isn't your doing. And it's only the one time." She pauses. "How do you know it was torture? I never said—"

"Your face," Mark replies, pointing to her eyes.

Lexie reaches up, pulling her fingers back from her eyes with surprise. "I—I was crying?" She asks, staring at the moisture. "But I didn't even notice…"

"It's all right. I've cried over you, too. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Mark, I..."

"Come on," he smiles, standing up before she can muster an appropriate response to his confession. "I'm hungry. Want to help me make breakfast?"

. . .

"So you want me to be happy," Mark concludes fifteen minutes later as they sit at the counter with identical plates of scrambled eggs.

"What?" Lexie asks, looking over to him as she takes a sip of orange juice.

"Me in your dream," Mark explains, busying himself with stabbing individual pieces of egg with his fork instead meeting her eyes. "You said it was so weird that I was happy. Am I not acting happy around you?" He looks over, staring seriously at her confused brown eyes. "Because I _am_ happy when I'm with you."

"Mark." Lexie setting down her fork, staring hard at him. "I want _this_ you, okay?" She says, putting a hand on his arm. "I don't want you to be that person in the dream. I want you to be you."

"But you…"

"Mark, please," Lexie cuts in. "Don't over-analyze it, okay?" She smiles at him. "That's my job."

He stares at her before sighing and taking a bite of his eggs. "Fine," he replies after he's done chewing. "You over-analyze and I'll pretend you didn't tell me anything."

Lexie smiles, removing her hand from his arm and resting it on his neck for a moment. "Thank you," she says before turning back to her food.

"So what do you want to do today?" Mark asks a few minutes later, as they both finish their breakfasts. Lexie shrugs, stacking their plates and pushing them towards the sink. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Well… We can't exactly go outside…"

"Why? Is there a snowstorm or something?"

Mark's lips twitch. "No," he replies. He stares at her for a moment, waiting for the realization to dawn, and when it doesn't, he explains: "You're not supposed to be here, remember?"

Lexie lifts her chin slowly, as if to protest, before bringing it back down in an understanding nod. "Oh. Right. I guess I forgot." She props her elbow on the counter, letting her hand support her head as she stares at him. "So what do we do?"

Mark shrugs. "Anything that doesn't involve you leaving the apartment."

Lexie grins at this. "So I'm your prisoner, huh?"

"Only if you want to be," Mark smiles.

"Well," she begins, hopping down from the stool to stand between their chairs. "I can think of a few things that don't involve leaving this apartment."

"Lex," Mark murmurs warningly, unconsciously resting his hands on her hips as she moves closer. "What I said last night…"

"Mark, I have to leave tomorrow," she interrupts, smiling up at him in a way that lets him know he isn't just imagining the suggestive look in her eyes. "Don't you want something to remember me by?"

"Lex," Mark sighs. "You were upset earlier. You were so upset that I was actually happy nothing happened last night—because if it did, I know you and I both would have regretted it. You weren't ready then and you're not ready now."

"I—"

"Why don't we just hang out here? We can have a nice day, just sitting here… It's quiet. We can just lay around."

"We can be quiet," Lexie smiles, stepping forward.

Mark sighs, staring at her. No matter how much he'd like to give in to her, he knows he'd only hate himself later is something went awry between them. "Lex, you know what I mean."

Lexie sighs heavily, backing away and hopping back up on her own stool. "Fine," she mutters after a moment. "Have it your way."

"I will have it my way," Mark grins, pecking her lips quickly before heading to the couch in the other half of the room. "Come on," he calls. "Let's play a game or something."

"A _game_?" Lexie repeats incredulously, staring after him as her feet touch the wood floor. "We aren't fourteen, Mark, and this is not cute. I don't want to play any game unless it's strip poker."

"Oh, stop being a baby and get over here," he complains, sitting down on the couch.

"_Fine_," Lexie groans, drawing out the one-syllable word as she traipses across the room to join him. She plops down on the couch beside him, folding her legs beneath her and crossing her arms over her chest. "I am not playing a game with you."

"Well, good," Mark replies, grabbing the TV remote from the table. "Because I don't have any games."

"You jerk," Lexie replies, shoving his arm lightly. "You tricked me over here."

"I said we could play a game," Mark smiles, flipping through channels. "Lying is a game."

"Hmpf," Lexie mutters, snatching the remote out of his hand and choosing her own television program. "Whatever."

"Pick a good one," he instructs as she continues changing the channel, moving to sit beside her and slings his arm over the back of the couch behind her head.

. . .

They had been watching a home improvement show for a half-hour now, both content to be entertained the endless and trivial concerns of designers and carpenters, before the preview for the next show came on, entitled _My Dream Wedding. _Lexie quickly switched the channel, her finger fumbling slightly over the remote, and in her haste, ended up on the cooking channel. Mark had tried to come up with something to say, maybe _it doesn't matter _or _who cares?_, but he found himself unable to voice those words before Lexie spoke.

"Where were you that day?" She asks quietly, her eyes trained on the screen as the man on television sautés dish after dish. "Were—were you at the hospital?"

Mark stares at her for a moment, surprised she'd bring it up, before shaking his head. He knows exactly what she's talking about. "No," he replies softly, his eyes trained on her even though she's staring straight ahead. "I couldn't have been there either." He closes his eyes. "I probably would have killed someone."

"Mark," Lexie whispers, her eyes finally meeting his. "I—"

"I couldn't think about anything but you," he admits softly. "I couldn't think about anything else except the fact that you picked him over me and that I'd never get a another chance. I'd never be able to prove how much I loved you or how much I needed you."

"You got a second chance," Lexie whispers. "There's always a second chance."

Mark shakes his head. "But those weren't real second chances. Not when I knew you were always going back to him. Not when I knew you'd never really be with me."

"I'm with you now."

"I know."

"I won't be leaving you," she tells him seriously.

"I know," he replies, staring into her hurt and worried brown eyes. "I know. I…" He sighs. "I honestly don't know what I did that day. I wasn't at the hospital, I know that…" He frowns. "But I can't remember where I was."

"Maybe you blocked the memory," Lexie suggest quietly.

"Maybe," he echoes, knowing that would never be possible. As much as he might like to, it was too painful to bury.

"Did you ever think about coming?" Lexie asks softly. "Or was it just automatically 'no?'"

Mark stares at her for a moment. "I thought about coming," he replies softly. Lexie's about to speak when he continues. "But probably not in the way you would have appreciated."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I had a good few weeks to decide whether or not I really wanted to go… And none of them ever included just sitting through the service and watching you marry him. If I had gone, I wouldn't have just stood by and let it happen right in front of me." He grins. "Maybe I would've tied up Avery in a back room, done him a favor, and stood in for him as groom."

Lexie cracks a smile at this. "I think you would've been found out."

"Who would tell?" Mark smiles. "Maybe we didn't want to get married, but we were—are—in love." He glances at her, serious now. "That's more than you had the first time around."

Lexie stares at him silently for a moment, and Mark starts to worry that he's crossed a line. Maybe it's too early to talk about her almost-ex-husband or her marriage. Maybe he isn't supposed to talk about either until she says. Or at all.

"You're right," she says softly.

"What?" Mark asks, lost in thought.

"You're right. I didn't have much—anything, really—when I married him. But with you..." She smiles, looking over and placing a hand on his knee. "With you, I have everything."

Mark leans forward, kissing her softly. "Well, I'm happy you feel that way."

"I'm happy you let me feel that way."

"I honestly don't know what I'm doing," Mark replies with a chuckle.

"You aren't doing anything," Lexie smiles. "And that's why it's perfect. It's effortless."

"I wouldn't say this happened without effort," he frowns.

"I didn't mean… What I meant was, our...love," Lexie replies, slightly embarrassed. "_That's_ effortless. When I'm with you, I just feel good. Complete. I don't feel like anything's missing." She smiles nervously. "And that—that's what love is suppose to feel like, right?"

"I don't know," Mark replies honestly. "All I can draw from is what I feel with you, how I feel with you. But it—it's the same, just as you said. I feel everything with you, but without you I feel...nothing." He glances over to her. "And I don't want to feel nothing anymore."

"Then don't be without me."

. . .

Mark and Lexie spent the rest of the day talking and watching mindless TV. After the last twenty-four hours, neither wanted to focus on the fact that she'd be leaving in less than a day to go back to Portland. So they stopped speaking about all the heavy stuff and just enjoyed the time they had together—just like they used to. Except this time, they were actually happy. This time, there wasn't a incessant reminder in the back of their minds telling them that they only had one more hour, one more minute, one more second together before they had to go back to their real lives. This time, they just lived, and didn't worry about how much time they had left.

. . .

It's only later that night when it begins to dawn on both Mark and Lexie how little time they have left until she has to go back. Having booked the tickets last-minute, the only flight she could get was at seven AM the next morning. If she had planned this trip and though ahead, Lexie would have no doubt dragged out this short visit as long as it could be… But she didn't. She was heading back to Oregon tomorrow, and no matter how much she wanted to stay in Seattle, that wasn't an option right now. So she did the only thing she could think of to draw out the hours.

. . .

"Lex…" Mark mutters warningly as the previously-chaste kiss they'd been sharing continued to escalate. Though they'd been simply watching TV not two minutes ago, Lexie was now straddling his waist, her hands trailing from his face to his neck as her kisses deepened. "What I said before…"

"This isn't the same," Lexie argues with a smile, pulling a few inches away to look him in the eye. She holds his cheek in her palm. "I'm not going to regret this, alright?" She leans forward, kissing him softly. "I love you and I'm leaving in the morning." She repeats her question from earlier today with a grin. "Don't you want something to remember me by before I go back?"

Mark runs a hand through his hair, and Lexie knows he's only seconds away from saying her name in that exasperated tone he's been using much too often in situations like this.

"Please?" She asks quietly, never taking her eyes off his. "I want to. And the only reason I want to," she continues, drowning out his protests, "is because I love you. There isn't another reason and this isn't about him. This is about us." She smiles tauntingly at him. "You love me too, don't you?"

Mark just rolls his eyes at her statement and Lexie grins down at him.

"So, please? It's my last night. I want to spend it with you."

"You'd spend it with me anyway," Mark excuses, trying to avoid her eye and ignore the incredibly stimulating feel of her body on top of his.

"Mark, you know what I mean."

He closes his eyes, letting his chest rise and fall noticeably as he debates with himself. A second later, he places his hands on her hips, but instead of drawing her closer, he shifts her body off of his. Lexie's face immediately falls, her mouth opening slightly in disbelief as he gets to his feet. _Fine, _Lexie thinks to herself, annoyed and more hurt than she'd care to admit as she looks down at the floor. _He can have it his way. Again._

When she lifts her eyes a moment later, he's standing with his arm outstretched to her. Lexie's eyes widen, shocked, before she takes his hand and using their joint body weight to heft herself to her feet. The extra momentum makes her body slam into his when they're both on their feet. She can feel his heartbeat against hers and the breath leave her chest. But when she makes a move to step back, he holds her close. "You better not regret this." His warning drifts past her ear, riding on a warm breath.

"I won't," she promises, angling her head to meet his lips. "Take me to bed, please."

. . .

"You said this was your home," Mark whispers later, his head resting on the pillow beside hers. "Did you mean Seattle or…"

"I meant here," Lexie answers before he finishes. "Why?" She asks, looking over her shoulder at him. "Is that a problem?"

He shakes his head. "No. I was just going to say… It makes things easier after all this. You're welcome to say with me," he offers. "If you'd like to, that is."

Lexie smiles, meeting his eyes. "Really?" She asks, rolling over to look him in the face. She hadn't quite thought that far in advance. What _was _she supposed to do what the divorce was finalized? She'd said she didn't want the house, or the money, or anything else… But Whitney had been right. She'd want things when the time came. She'd needthem.

"Definitely," Mark answers seriously. "You're always welcome."

"Good to know," Lexie replies.

"Lex."

"Yeah?"

"I'm happy you think of this as home," he murmurs, before leaning forward and kissing her slowly.

"Me too," she mumbles into his lips, sighing contentedly as hears the bed shift and feels his body move to hover above hers for the second time that night.  
>. . .<p>

_7 AM_

_. . ._

Lexie groans aloud when she hears her cell's alarm go off, reaching out blindly before realizing that it's across the room. She stumbles to her feet, shuffling across the cold floorboards to her purse sitting on the dresser. She shuts off the alarm, ready to go back to bed, before realizing that it had done its job—she was up and about. She was awake, and she had to leave for Portland in just one hour.

"Plane?" She hears Mark mumble from the bed, rolling over and blinking tiredly up at her.

"Yeah," Lexie sighs. "I'm going to go shower real quick, and then I've gotta pack my stuff."

"Okay," Mark yawns, his eyes following her as she exits to the bathroom. "I'll try to wake up."

. . .

Fifty minutes later, after Lexie's showered, dressed, and packed, she and Mark are walking slowly to the front door. Since Mark's car was in the shop, she'd called for a cab, which was set to arrive in five minutes at the entrance to Mark's building.

"I wish I could just stay here forever," Lexie tells him as the pause before his apartment's blue front door. "I wish I didn't have to keep leaving."

"Soon you'll be able to," Mark replies. "Soon you won't have to leave anymore."

Lexie nods in agreement, but her words come out in a sigh. "But not now."

Lexie can feel his quick exhale of breath, his stall before he has to agree. "But not now." He takes her hand, applying light pressure as he uses his other to reach for the doorknob. "You'll be back?" Mark asks, his lips just inches from hers. Lexie leans forward, squeezing his hand in hers.

"Always," she murmurs, turning her head to meet his kiss. They break apart a couple seconds later, knowing they have to keep it all short and sweet or else she'll never make her flight. Nonetheless, still not wanting to part just yet, Mark insisted on accompanying her downstairs to wait for her cab to the airport. As they ride the elevator down to the ground floor, Lexie feels her finger twitch at her side, just itching to hit the emergency stop. She wishes she was at liberty to take his hand and lead them back upstairs to the bedroom, the couch, or any other suitable surface, but she still has a flight to catch and a half-forgotten life to get back to. The only thought that comforts her is that she won't have to be gone for long.

. . .

_Quick Edit: Thank you to Callie-Cullen for reminding me-Lexie's allergic to eggs. (Can you hear me sighing at my stupidity?) Yes, this is what happens when I choose to update at 11 PM. This is what happens when I stop actually watching the show for months at a time because I'm pissed off at its direction. Please excuse that little error; I'm sorry but I don't have time to fix it right now. Let's just pretend she was eating a bagel or something, shall we? Sorry for the inconsistency, guys._

_. . ._

_Author's Note: Sorry I had to leave this chapter (to my eyes) half-done. There are a lot of important and sort of climactic things that happen in the next chapter, but to do them justice, I have to work more on them. But like I said, I wanted to give you guys something since you've been such good readers and reviewers. So I hope this was enough to hold you off for a little while. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long and even now not having a full chapter._

_Anyway, **please review,** guys. They help me so much, especially at times like this, when I can't write something correctly or am just plain stuck. Plus, I honestly love hearing what you guys think of the chapter and where you think the story will go. So thank you for reading, and leave me your thoughts._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:**

_(Or, Chapter 16: Part 2)_

_Author's Note: So I've heard from a couple of you that you were confused with that dream. Truth be told, I like to hear that. I tried to make it as realistic as possible, so that Lexie would think it almost happened, but with the exception of Mark being sort of, you know, **completely**__ out of character. Anyway. I'm incredibly sorry for the long wait, but here we go!_

_. . ._

"I have to go," Lexie reminds him a few minutes later, her chin resting on his shoulder and her body wrapped within his as they stand in the chilly morning air.

"I know," Mark replies, still not relinquishing his tight hold on her.

"Cab's almost here," Lexie tells him softly, slowly pulling back out of him embrace. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Mark replies with a forced smile. He repeats his question from just a few minutes ago, just wanting to hear her answer again. "You'll be back?"

"Always," Lexie repeats, squeezing his hand as the cab stops by the curb.

"You two going to Sea-Tac, right?" The driver calls through his window as he pulls up to the curb, referencing the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.

"Oh, no, it's just me," Lexie replies, holding up her small suitcase. "But I am headed to the airport."

"I can take that," he offers, opening the door and taking the bag from her hands. He glances between them. "If you two, uh, need a moment, I can put this in the trunk and pretend to be invisible."

Lexie and Mark glance at each other. "We're fine," Lexie replies with a smile. "We've had our moment, said our goodbyes."

"Alrighty, then," the cabbie says, shutting the trunk. "We can be off."

"Bye," Lexie tells Mark softly as she opens up the door of the backseat.

"Have a safe flight," he replies as she sits inside and shuts the door. A moment later, the cab is pulling away and she's heading back to Oregon, but Mark can't stop himself from watching until she's disappeared from view.

. . .

The cab driver glances in his left side mirror, spotting Mark standing by the entrance to the apartment building. "That your boyfriend?"

"What?" Lexie asks. "Oh, yeah," she says with a smile. "He is."

"That whole long-distance thing workin' out?"

"Long-distance?" Lexie asks. "How did you know…"

"Suitcase," the man replies as he maneuvers extra slowly through the icy parking lot. "It was pretty small, so I knew you weren't heading off to a meeting. Plus, you don't quite have the conference attire on."

Lexie glances down to her jeans and North Face winter jacket. "No, I guess not."

"So, only thing that really remains when you see one half of a couple leaving is one of them lives far away and is just staying for a night or two, hence the small suitcase." He glances to her in the rearview mirror. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, you—_stop_!" Lexie screeches as another car almost drives right into their bumper. The driver slams on the break at her command, causing them both to lurch forward. A second later, he's unbuckled his seatbelt, pushing his door open angrily. "Hey, man, what the hell!" He shouts as someone crosses the hood of the car.

"Sorry," an all-too-familiar voice replies. "But I need to talk to the woman in your cab."

"Ugh, god," the driver groans. "This isn't some last-ditch effort to get her back, is it?"

Through the window, Lexie can see her husband manage a tight smile. "Not quite."

The cabbie narrows his eyes before waving his hand. "Yeah, whatever. Meter's ticking, though," he calls back to her.

"Hi," Jackson says, knocking on her window. "Can I talk to you?"

Lexie opens the door, wishing she could hit him with it, but he steps back before she can. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Lexie hisses at him, glancing to the driver standing by the hood to make sure he's out of earshot.

"Oh, I have something for you," he smiles, passing her a manila folder. "Response to the papers you sent me. Since you were so kind as to hand-deliver it, I thought I should return the favor in person."

"Jackson, this is _supposed_ to go to my lawyer," Lexie snaps, snatching the folder out of his hand angrily and tucking it under her arm.

"Yeah, well, I decided it'd be nice to stop by." He smiles cloyingly down at her. "Did you have a good time?" He coos. "Did you have a nice little good-bye there?"

"Jesus," Lexie mutters, touching her temple.

"You really think it was okay to do this?" Jackson asks, glaring at her as his voice rises in anger. "You really think I wouldn't _care_?"

"You _told me _to go—" Lexie tries to interrupt.

"Right, have you ever heard of _sarcasm_?" Jackson cuts in. "Not only are we still _married_, might I remind you, Lexie, but thanks to your little confession a few nights ago, I now know _exactly _what you've been doing and who you've been doing it with."

"Look, I just wanted to get out of the house, okay? You didn't—"

"Yeah, when most people need to 'get out of the house' they go and take a walk. Or go to their _sister's, _which happens to be, oh, I don't know, less than ten minutes away. Let me guess, you were just at Meredith's, weren't you? You just stopped by here for old times' sake?"

"I—"

"Avery," a voice greets from behind them. "Can I help you?"

"Sloan," Jackson growls, closing his eyes momentarily. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself not to just turn around and kill the man. "Not your problem."

"You made it my problem when you showed up here." Mark crosses his arms. "Want to leave her alone?"

"Oh?" Jackson asks, turning around to face his former mentor. "Oh, do _I _want to leave her alone? I'm sorry, what about _you_?" Jackson takes a step towards him. "Why don't _you _leave my _wife _and Ito our _marriage _and stay the _fuck_ out?"

Mark's eyes flit to Lexie's, where he can clearly see the fear in her eyes. "I can't do that," he replies evenly, his gaze returning to Avery's face.

"And why is _that_?" Jackson spits out the last word.

_Because she loves me_, Mark thinks immediately. He's about to voice the words when another, more vindictive thought enters his mind. Mark stares at the anger on the other man's face as his lips spread in a smug smile, so conceited it's practically a sneer.

"Oh, I don't know," Mark replies softly, keeping his voice light and never letting his eyes wander from the other man's face. "Maybe because she—" He leans forward, aware he's getting in Jackson's face but not caring, "—_wants me_," he finishes in a stage-whisper. He doesn't even bother to hide the suggestive tone in his voice. "And not _you_," he adds, his eyes lighting up.

Jackson's face twists in fury at these words, his eyes burning with anger, and before Lexie can do or say anything to stop him, his hand has flashed forward in a closed fist, slamming into the other man's left cheek. Mark had been half-expecting a punch come, but hadn't really thought Jackson would have the guts to do it. Apparently fury trumps bravery, though.

Mark absorbs the punch, letting it swivel his head to the side and forcing himself not to hit back. When he turns to look Jackson in the eye, he's grinning. "What?" Mark asks with a laugh. "That's the best you've got?" He taunts, ducking away from a second punch. "Shepherd had me on the ground bleeding with his first shot—and by the way, that was just for _talking _with _his _wife," he finishes, quickly jumping out of the way as Jackson advances towards him.

"You piece of _shit_," Jackson growls, shoving him.

"Original," Mark chuckles. "I see you use the same insults when you're sober as when you're drunk."

He can hear Lexie shouting at Jackson—or maybe at him, Mark isn't sure—but he can't spare a second to listen to her words. He'd only loose focus, and that can't happen especially with at the rate her husband is moving towards him. So far, Mark been managing to easily dodge and deflect Jackson's blows, but the younger man proves to be much quicker on his feet, turning his strength into the other's downfall—literally.

While Mark is preoccupied with blocking the other man's fists, Jackson is able to lash out quickly and swiping a foot under Mark's legs and successfully knocking him to the ground. Fueled by his rage and adrenaline from the fight, Jackson wastes no time in making sure he stays on the ground by reaching for his throat.

He can feel someone's hands on his shoulders—probably Lexie trying to pull him off—but Jackson can't look away or bother to shake her off. The fire in Mark's eyes is almost equal to his own, and Jackson knows that if he's distracted for even a moment the other man will gain the upper hand. And Jackson can't have that. He can't lose again. Not to him.

Jackson tightens his grip when he sees that Mark is still grinning up at him, clutching his fingers tighter, tighter until—he's pulled away. One second he's looking down into the face of a man he soon hopes will be dead and the next, all he can hear is a gruff male voice in his ear, asking him what the hell is going on and telling him to calm down.

Jackson immediately thrashes against the person holding him back, desperate to knock Mark back down before he has a chance to get to his feet. But he can't break free from whoever's holding him back and Mark's sitting up, gasping slightly, and all Jackson wants to do is make sure he doesn't take another breath.

"Let go of me, you asshole!" He yells, twisting around to see who's stopping him from achieving what he's entitled to.

"Sorry, can't do that," the man replies, who Jackson can now assume is the cab driver. "You were about to kill him."

"Yeah, and I have a right to!" Jackson replies, twisting harder when he meets Mark's gaze.

"You don't have a right to kill anyone," the driver replies, holding him tighter.

"I have a right to kill _him_!" Jackson shouts, twisting even harder in his anger. "He's been sleeping with my wife, I have a right to be the one to murder him!"

Jackson can feel the man's arms freeze around him in surprise, and he's about to take advantage of the situation before Lexie steps in between them, putting her hands up.

"That's _IT_," she shrieks, moving to stand between them. "Both of you, _stop it. _We're all too old for fistfights, and you—" She breaks off to glare at each of them in turn. "—should know that." Her nostrils flare in obvious indignation. "Now, _I_ am going to the airport." She checks her watch. "Though you two immature _asses_ probably made me miss my flight," she mutters. She looks directly at Jackson when she speaks the next few words. "Go home, and don't bother waiting for me there. I'll be getting a hotel room once I get off the plane and I will see you at the first meeting."

Jackson opens his mouth to speak, but Lexie drowns him out. "And for god's sake, send the response to my lawyer. Jesus."

Jackson closes his mouth, his nose twitching in anger. He glares at all three people in front of him before getting in his car and driving off. Mark watches him go before sitting up from the icy ground. He stretches the muscles in his face while trying not to wince. "Ah," he groans, touching his cheek gingerly. His hand comes away bloody. The cab driver glares at him for a moment before extending a hand. Mark takes it gratefully, staggering to his feet. "Thanks," he says. "And you are?"

"Mike."

"Right. Mike." He half-smirks. "Thanks for grabbing him."

The cabbie just grunts. "From what I heard, I should've let him beat the shit out of you."

Mark's gaze narrows at the man. "What are you—"

He jerks his thumb over at Lexie. "You're with his wife."

Mark sighs loudly. "It's not—"

"—what it looks like, right? Or what it sounds like? Well, from what I can gather, you two have been screwing around for some time. I think he's allowed to try to kill you."

Mark opens his mouth to argue, but doing so makes his jaw hurt too much to actually argue. Mike turns to Lexie. "Miss," he begins, barely hiding his disapproval. "We should probably go."

Lexie's eyes flicker between the cabbie and Mark, who's barely standing straight. "I…"

"Look," he interrupts impatiently. "I can't be waiting here all day. Do you want me to take you now or find other clients? I can't waste my time twiddling my thumbs just because you've gotta play nurse."

She licks her lips, making a snap decision. _Screw the flight. _"Just—just give me twenty minutes, okay? Please? I'll—I'll pay you for it, just wait here."

Mike sighs, but soon puts up his hands in defeat. "You know what, whatever. I'll be waiting in the parking lot, and if you're not back down here in twenty, I'm gone. I've got other things to do."

"_Thank_ you," Lexie replies with feeling. Mike just grunts instead of responding, hopping back into his cab and heading to a parking space without another word. Lexie stares after him for a moment before turning to Mark.

"Come on," she sighs, putting a hand on his back. "Let's get you inside."

. . .

"Hey," April calls with a smile from the ER desk as she sees her old friend walk through the doors a half hour later. "I didn't know you were in town. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I, uh…" Jackson raises his throbbing right hand. He'd had to pull over partway through the drive, it was hurting so bad. "I'm in need of some medical attention."

April Kepner gets immediately to her feet, walking around the desk and leading him to an empty exam room for privacy. She cringes slightly at the sight of his wrecked hand, bloody knuckles and swollen fingers. "What happened to it? What did you do to your hand?" She asks, closing the door behind them and taking a seat as she begins to tend to his hand.

"Beat the shit out of Mark Sloan with it," he replies crisply.

April's head snaps up, shock written all over her widened eyes. "Dr. Sloan? Why'd you get into a fight with Mark?"

Jackson sighs, clenching his semi-good left hand into a fist. "No reason," he replies, his voice coming out much colder than he'd intended. _It isn't April's fault they're together, _he reminds himself, trying to soften his tone.

"Jackson," April presses quietly. "Come on. You don't fight. What's going on?"

"I do fight," he replies. "You don't remember Alex?"

April sighs loudly, glaring at him. "Yes, I remember Alex. Thanks for reminding me."

"I _do _fight," he repeats. "This wasn't an isolated incident."

"Oh, so you're going right back out to continue this brawl, are you? Is this a time-out for injuries?"

It's Avery's turn to sigh. "I'm not going back out there."

"Good. Now tell me what happened."

"It was…" He lets out a heavy sigh. "It was nothing, okay, April? It was just a fight."

"You know," April notes off-handedly. "When I said you didn't fight, I meant you didn't fight for no _reason_. You fought with Alex because we all thought we were losing our jobs and then again because of me. There's always a reason. What's it this time?"

Jackson takes a deep breath before letting out an even bigger sigh. "Lexie," he replies quietly.

April frowns at his words, but focuses on his injuries. "Lexie? What does she have to do with it?"

"Everything," Jackson mutters. "They've been…" He trails off, trying to find the right word, but while he's still searching, April's eyes find his.

"They've been what?" She asks sharply, and her eyes focus on him so intensely he's half-sure she already knows. Jackson just stares at her, waiting for her to come to the conclusion herself. A second later, he can see it dawn in her eyes, and her hand reaches out to grip his forearm. Her voice is more pained this time, and he can hear the urgency in her words as she repeats the question. "They've been what, Jackson?"

He licks his lips, speaking quietly. "I think you already know."

"You can't be seri—she can't—I mean—you're…you're married!" April sputters angrily. "She's your wife!"

"Interesting, she didn't take that into consideration while she was fucking him."

"Wha—"

"Besides, that won't be true for very long," Jackson mutters, glancing through the half-drawn shades to make sure there isn't anyone in earshot in the main room. But the ER is practically empty.

"What are you talking about?"

"We're getting divorced."

"You—you are?"

He glances over at her, eyebrows raised. "What, you really think I'll stay with her after what she did to me?"

"Well…couldn't you try to work things out? Like, marriage counseling or something?"

Jackson shakes head. "Wouldn't work."

"Well, have you two even discussed it? I mean, if she said she was sorry—"

"When did I ever say she was sorry?" Jackson cuts in. April looks up from examining his hand, startled at his harsh tone.

"Well, I just thought…"

"She didn't say she was sorry," Jackson tells her, blocking out all the times she actually had said it to him—he knows she didn't mean any of them.

"Well, I'm sure she regrets it," April replies, trying to be diplomatic. "It was probably just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? I doubt it meant anything and—"

"She's leaving me for him," Jackson interrupts quietly. April swallows at his words, looking up at catch his eye but failing as he succeeds in avoiding hers.

"But I—I thought you said you were getting divorced—"

"Yeah, because _she _wants to." His eyes find April's. "This wasn't my decision," he explains quietly.

"So you… You want to stay with her, then? Even—even now?"

Jackson sighs, closing his eyes and trying to erase the way he saw them hold each other outside the apartment building. But the leftover image only makes his answer more solid. "No," he replies softly. "I don't. Not now. But… Before I knew what was going on, I did. I would've done anything to convince her otherwise. But now… You're right. I should just let her go."

"I never said that," April replies. "I just meant—if you think you two can still work, you should try."

"We can't."

She offers him a weak, sad smile. "Then I'm sorry." She places her gloved hand on his wrist, foregoing his injured hand, and looks him in the eye. "Really. I am."

"Thank you," he replies softly, staring back at her. And before he can think about what he's doing, he's leaning forward, meeting her halfway between them, and angling his lips to meet hers. When they touch, there are no fireworks. There are no explosions. There's just that comforting feeling you get when you do something you've been waiting a lifetime to do. And, in that way, it was almost better. He can feel her take in a surprised breath—his actions surprised her as much as they surprised him—but before she can pull away, his hands reach up and hold her face to his. Jackson's lips are desperate and insistent on hers, and in that split second before she pulls away, he could have sworn she'd kissed him back.

"I—I'm not her," April tells him, moving away from him.

"I know." His voice is breathless and already he's leaning back towards her. She puts a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Jackson," she says forcefully. "I'm April. I'm not her. I'm not Le—"

"I know," he cuts in with a smile. "God, I know you're not her," he murmurs before leaning forward again.

"And you're married," April manages a second later, still holding him at arm's length. "You're—you're married, we can't—"

"She cheated, too," he counters quickly.

She gives him a small smile, but crosses her arms in a clear signal that she doesn't want him any closer. "And that makes it okay for you to as well?"

Jackson looks away.

"Look, I'm not saying I don't… want this, I'm just saying that you're going to regret it."

He looks back over, staring at her. "I'm not," he replies. "I wouldn't."

April offers him a small smile. "You say that now..."

"I won't regret it."

"Okay, fine, _you _won't, but… I might."

"You could have just said you didn't want—"

April shakes her head quickly. "No, no, I mean… Later, I might regret that this was how it started. By us cheating."

"How it…started?" Jackson repeats, confused.

"Look, Jackson, I've…" April takes a quick breath, hardly believing she's admitting this aloud. And to him, no less. "I've wanted for this to happen for a long time, but now… This isn't a good time, not for you."

Jackson stares at her, his mouth half-open. "Why didn't you…" He frowns. "If you wanted to be with me, why didn't you say anything?"

"You were with her," April replies. "And you were happy. What would I have said?"

"No, I mean before that. When we were at Mercy West, or the first few years we were at Seattle Grace… You could've told me, April."

"I was too nervous, I guess," April shrugs. She stares at him with a small smile before it clears, leaving her face serious. "Jackson… We're not twenty-five anymore, okay?" She tilts her head sadly. "We can't just do this like it's no big deal. You're married."

"Soon to be divorced," Jackson replies.

"So call me when you're divorced," April suggests. "And not a minute before," she adds solemnly.

"April, I…"

She smiles at him. "Call me, okay? Then we can talk."

Jackson sighs, but half of his mouth is upturned when he looks at her. "You know what? Fine. We'll play by your rules."

April smiles, holding her hand out between them. "Deal?"

Jackson rolls his eyes with a soft chuckle, but takes her hand nonetheless. "Deal."

"Good." She glances at him. "So can I fix your hand now, or…?"

He smiles. "Right," he replies. "That might be a good idea."

"All right," she says, getting up and pulling a medical kit from the counter nearby. She sits down in front of him again, setting the kit on her lap and pulling out some swabs to sterilize the wounds before getting to work. "Let's see what you did to it…"

He watches for a silent moment, staring at the focused look on her face, but when she glances up at him and quickly looks back down, he can see a small smile take shape on her mouth for the shortest second. Instead of pushing her, though, he lifts his eyes to the ceiling, wincing slightly as the sterilizer stings his open cuts. He picks the most innocent topic he can think of, trying not to let his eyes linger on her face for too long as he speaks.

"So… Nice weather we're having, huh?"

. . .

"You shouldn't have talked to him," Lexie is saying as they reach Mark's front door. "_Especially _not like that. You shouldn't have said a _thing_. You should have stayed out of it and left me to deal with it on my own."

"Lexie," Mark sighs. "I told you, I was just trying to make sure he wasn't—"

"Don't pretend you were trying to protect me or defend my honor," Lexie cuts in angrily, unlocking the door and half-shoving him inside before shutting the door. She sits him down at a chair by the counter before grabbing a plastic bag and filling it with ice from the freezer. "You were looking to _fight_," Lexie spits, glaring at him from across the counter as she fills the bag. "You were looking for an excuse to confront him after all these years, and you picked the wrong one. He would have killed you if that cabbie didn't grab him."

"Oh, _yeah_," Mark replies, catching the ice in his hand with a wince as she throws it at him angrily. "The _cabbie_. His name's Mike, by the way. And he said himself, he would have let Avery beat the shit out of me."

"He already did," Lexie mutters.

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"Oh, don't act like you had control of that situation," Lexie growls. "Don't act like you could have fought him off. You were just acting like a stupid, immature—"

"Okay, stop it," Mark cuts in. Lexie purses her lips, continuing to glare at him while he speaks. "Don't act like I'm the only idiot here. It's your fault for coming."

Lexie scoffs, her mouth open in a wide 'O.' "Gee, thanks, Mark! Here I was thinking I was _welcome_ here. Obviously that wasn't what you meant when you said this was my home too."

"Oh, you know what I mean," Mark snaps, annoyed at her hurt expression which he knows is only a front. "The only reason he showed up was because you were here."

"Yeah, and the only reason _I _showed up was for_ you_," Lexie huffs. She stares at him hard before shaking her head. "I can't believe you did that. It was one on the dumbest things you've ever done. What if no one else was there? I obviously couldn't get you two idiots to stop fighting, and one of you would have—"

"Mike was there," Mark replies. "He grabbed Avery. End of story."

"Yes, but what if he _wasn't_? What if no one was there? He would've killed you."

Mark shakes his head, scoffing. "Please. He'd never be able to."

"Don't try and be a guy here, okay? I _saw _him, he was trying to throttle you—"

"Yeah, and I would've clocked him in the face if he didn't get pulled off me." He stares at her, squashing the urge to roll his eyes at her. "Lex, this certainly isn't the first fight I've been in. And not even the first over _you_, remember. I knew what I was doing."

"Just because you have experience beating up on Derek like you two are still in high school doesn't mean you could take him on."

"'Take him on?' Lex, are you kidding me?" Mark protests angrily. "Avery's half my size!"

"Yeah, and filled with so much rage that, I swear to god, Mark, he wouldn't have stopped if you were within an inch of death."

"He wasn't going to kill me," Mark groans. "I mean, seriously, Lexie? Killing?" He gestures between them. "Over this?"

She crosses her arms, staring at him coolly. "What if it was the other way around?"

"What?"

"What if I was married to you and had been in love with him for ten years?"

Mark shakes his head, denying the scenario. "You wouldn't," he replies. His voice is more forceful than he'd intended.

"That's beside the point. Tell me: if this was the other way around, and you had a clear shot, would you think twice about killing him? Would you even _hesitate_?" They stare at each other for a silent minute before Lexie glances to the clock on the wall. "That's what I thought," she mutters, heading to the door. "Now, I have to go. It's almost been twenty minutes, and I wouldn't put it past that guy to leave without me."

"Lex," Mark calls as she reaches the door. "You really taking off without saying good-bye?"

"I already said good-bye," Lexie snaps over her shoulder, pulling the door angrily. "I'll see you when I see you."

"Hey," he calls again, his voice firmer this time as he gets to his feet. "Are you seriously going to leave it this?"

"Mark," Lexie sighs impatiently. "I have to go before he—"

"Are you going to come _back_?" He interrupts forcefully, looking her in the eye.

"What?" She asks crossly, her annoyance still very present and clouding her thoughts. "Of course I am," she snaps automatically, her tone still sharp and angry from arguing over the fight. "Where else would I—" She breaks off a moment later, her expression softening as she steps towards him, looking up at him with concerned brown eyes. "Oh, Mark," she murmurs softly, walking back towards him. "Baby, of course I'm coming back."

"I just wanted to check," he replies, looking down and away from her sympathy.

"I said I'd always be back. This is my home, and I thought you believed that."

He sighs, meeting her eyes. "Yeah, well, I wasn't sure if that was the final ruling after your husband and I got into a fistfight in the parking lot."

"It'll always be the final ruling," Lexie replies, putting a hand on his forearm. "Don't worry about that." She leans up to peck him on the lips quickly, frowning as he winces. "Sorry," she mutters, taking in his split lip.

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry you always get beat up for sleeping with me," Lexie apologizes softly.

He half-smiles at the reference. "At least it wasn't Derek this time." What happened with Derek on the catwalk seems like a lifetime ago. In some ways, it was. "He can pack a better punch."

"Are you sure you're okay?" She whispers quietly, already feeling guilty for not looking him over when she was angry before. Mark shakes his head at her concern, moving the ice to his face to cover some of the damage. "I'll be fine. Go catch your flight."

"Right," Lexie sighs, stepping away crossing the room again. "If I still can. Hey, promise me something," she calls, halfway out the door. Mark watches her, waiting for her to continue. "Take care of yourself, will you? For me?"

"Absolutely."

"And stay away from him," she instructs. "Don't get yourself killed. Then I'll be going through all this for nothing."

"I'll try my best," he promises.

. . .

_Author's Note: Sorry for the long update! Please review! And April/Jackson? Yay or nay? ;)_


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

Author's Note: For the 16th time, I am _so sorry_ for the late update. I know, this one is really bad. It's been almost a month; I'm really sorry. Maybe the length makes up for it a bit? I had a pretty hard time writing this chapter, plus college visits and applications for next year are sucking all my time... So that's why it took forever. But I hope people are still interested, even with the delay! :)

PS: The italicized parts in this section are **_flashbacks_**, not dreams (I won't confuse you guys anymore, don't worry). The first is from the night they got back together after the kiss at Joe's and the second is the aftermath of the whole 'Teach Me' scene.

Enjoy! :)

. . .

_The following Monday: Week One_

_9 AM_

. . .

"Oh," Lexie says, noticing that she isn't alone in the first moment she walks into the small conference room. "You're already here."

Jackson nods across the table, tapping his fingers lightly against the surface. "I am."

Lexie's eyes survey the room, taking in the fact that they are the only two present. "Where's..."

"The lawyers?" Jackson guesses. He points across the room, though the glass door, and into an identical room on the other side of the building. "Mine's over there, talking with yours. They're laying down a schedule. For now, we're meeting on Mondays and Thursdays."

Lexie nods, watching her attorney Whitney converse with a tall man with dark hair who she takes to be Jackson's representative. After a couple seconds, she takes a seat opposite her husband. They stare at each other for a silent moment before Lexie feels the need to break the silence.

"So," she begins, drawing out the word awkwardly. "How've—how've you been?"

"You mean since the fight in Seattle?" Jackson clarifies, not wanting to bother skirting around the topic. "I've been fine," he replies dismissively. "And you?"

Lexie nods, knowing now, more than ever, that he isn't one to shy from confrontation. "I've been good."

"And Mark?" Lexie's head snaps up at his name, her eyes narrowing on her husband's impassive face. "How's he been?" Jackson asks dispassionately.

Lexie pauses a second before asking, more sharply than she'd originally intended, "Why do you care?"

Jackson shrugs, tilting his swiveling chair to the right, to the left, and back again. "I'm just trying to make conversation."

"You don't want to make this conversation."

"Why not?"

"You know why not."

"Why? Because you're—"

"Okay," Lexie hears her lawyer interrupt. Both her and Jackson look up, realizing that both their representatives had walked in unnoticed. Whitney smiles at both of them before taking a seat beside her client at the long wooden table. "We're ready to start."

Lexie glances to her husband, wondering if he's going to speak again, but he's looking to his lawyer, awaiting instructions. She does the same, looking to Whitney and hoping this will all be over soon.

. . .

Mark can feel Derek staring at him. He can feel his best friend's eyes digging into him, and he doesn't even need to meet the neurosurgeon's gaze to know that he's already figured out what must've happened.

"So I see you had a conversation with Avery," Derek notes, finally breaking the silence as he walks up beside his best friend at the surgical board. "How did that go?"

"Very well, actually," Mark replies, studying the dry-erase writing. "I think we're well on our way to being best friends."

Derek sighs, shaking his head. "What'd you do to him?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Mark replies defensively. "_He's _the one who jumped me."

"I'm sure you did _something_," Derek mutters. "Besides sleeping with his wife, that is."

"I didn't do anything," Mark repeats. He hears Derek sigh a moment later.

"What did you do to provoke him?" He asks again.

"I told you," Mark sighs. "I didn't—"

"—do anything," Derek finishes for him. "Yeah, I heard that one already." He stares at Mark. "You should know by now that I've always been able to tell when you're lying. Tell me what really happened."

Mark shrugs, as if to argue that nothing happened.

"You know I'm not going to leave this alone until you tell me."

"Great," Mark replies without enthusiasm. "You do that. But I'm not going to be the one to tell you. It's none of your business," he mutters before walking away.

. . .

"All right, so if we're all agreed on splitting the assets," Whitney begins.

"Well, wait," Jackson's lawyer Ben cuts in, causing both client's eyes to shift from one attorney to the other as if they're viewing a tennis match. "Don't you think that we need to take more into account—"

"This is just the bank accounts," Whitney replies. "There are plenty of other things that if your client wants, he can have. But these should be split fairly."

"Well, see, I don't agree. I believe that my client deserves something for what yours—"

"Yes, but that's beside the point," Whitney interjects before the lawyer can even finish his sentence.

"Beside the point?" Ben asks incredulously. "It's the whole reason they're getting divorced!"

"Yes, but it isn't pertinent in this aspect of the case. _In fact," _Lexie hears her lawyer press, "I would say what's more important is…"

_. . ._

_"Do you… Do you think it will always be like this?" She asks quietly, staring up at him as she holds his face in her hands. "Between us, do you think we'll always feel this?"_

_"This?" Mark asks, short of breath as he looks between them. "Do you mean what's happening right now?" He asks with a grin. "Yeah, I'd say so."_

_"No, I meant, I meant," Lexie tries to correct him, but her voice is swallowed by a throaty moan. "Mark," she breathes, meeting his gaze. From the look in her eyes, he can see immediately that she's serious. He slows, stilling the movements of his body within hers. She takes a calming breath, staring into his eyes. "Do you think we'll always love each other like this?" She asks quietly, stroking his cheek. "Do you think we'll always be in love, even when we're old and ugly and deaf? Or…" She bites her lip. "Do—do you think it'll change? Do you think _**we'll **_change?"_

_"Old and ugly?" Mark smirks, his fingers trailing along the right side of her forehead and brushing her hair out of the way. "Who says we're going to be ugly when we're old? We'll be—"_

_"Mark," she cuts in softly, staring into his eyes and signaling to him to significance his answer will hold for her._

_"Yes," he replies immediately. "Yes, I do think we'll always feel this. I do think we'll always love each other."_

_"Are you sure?" She whispers._

_"Of course, Lex."_

_"How… How do you know?"_

_"Because I feel it," he replies simply. "You're the only person I've ever really loved and I don't expect that to change anytime soon." He smiles down at her. "You're it, Little Grey. Get used to it."_

_"I will." She smiles up at him, leaning forward to kiss him briefly._

_"Why the questions?" Mark asks quietly. "You said we were at different places in our lives… Was this too fast?" He inquires worriedly._

_Lexie shakes her head, and Mark feels his heartbeat slow with relief. "I just wanted to know," Lexie informs him. "I wanted to make sure we were on the same page."_

_"And we are?"_

_Lexie smiles. "We have been. Since that kiss, we have been."_

_"Oh, the kiss, huh?" Mark asks knowingly, leaning forward and taking her face in his hands. "Tell me I wasn't the only one waiting for that." He trails his fingers along her cheekbone much like he'd done less than a hour ago in the middle of Joe's Bar._

_"Maybe," Lexie replies evasively. She takes a breath, her chest expanding and touching his. "But right now," she whispers, "there are many other things I'd prefer you were doing than just kissing me."_

_Mark grins, but bends down and kisses her anyway. "Many other things?" He questions, shifting his hips and sighing softly when he hears a pleasured moan escape her mouth. "What things were you thinking of?"_

_"Mm, I think you have a pretty good idea already," Lexie replies, letting her eyes fall closed as she pulls him closer._

_. . ._

"Lexie. Lexie? _Lexie_."

"Hm?" Lexie asks, jerking her head up at the sounds of her name and the feel of a hand on her arm.

"We're waiting for your agreement," Whitney reminds her, holding out a pen and removing her hand.

"Oh, I…" She glances down, but the top sheet on the one-inch-thick stack of papers before her yields no answers. "I'm sorry, what were we discussing?"

"The splitting of your and Jackson's assets," Whitney replies before Ben can open his mouth. "We've reached a consensus to split right down the middle, fifty-fifty," Whitney reminds her. Lexie knows she isn't imagining the annoyed edge to her lawyer's words. She knows she should be paying attention.

"Okay," Lexie replies quietly, taking a firmer grip on the pen and signing her name by the bright yellow sticky note. "I'm sorry," she apologizes a moment later, setting down the pen and adjusting her seat. "I must've been preoccupied."

"With something besides your own divorce?"

Lexie turns her head at the question, meeting her husband's hard gaze as she takes in the words she knows everyone in the room had been wanting to say. From the intensity of his stare, Lexie gets the feeling that he's been watching her for some time. It's more than obvious that he hadn't liked what he'd seen.

She feels a slight shiver run down her back at the realization that her thoughts are no longer private. By the way his eyes roam over her features briefly before quickly falling, Lexie's sure what she was thinking about was written all over her face for him to see.

"Sorry," she murmurs a second later, catching his eye. Jackson looks over at her, holding her gaze in the silence of the room, before sighing slowly and sitting back in his chair.

"I'm sorry," she says again, knowing her words are nothing close to what he wants to hear and will never make up for what she did.

. . .

_Monday: Week Three_

. . .

_M: How's it going?_

_L: Fine._

_M: And 'fine' is code for…?_

_L: It's fine, Mark._

_M: Okay. Call me if you need to talk._

_L: I will. Thank you._

_. . ._

"Well, since I don't think there are any residency problems we need to look over…"

Jackson looks up at this, his eyes finding Lexie's despite it being her lawyer who was speaking. "Oh, really? No residency problems?"

"Yes," Lexie replies just as Whitney is about to answer for her. "You can have the house."

Jackson's eyes narrow. "Where will you be staying, then? When this is all over?"

"At Meredith's, if you must know," Lexie replies after a tense second.

"Ah," Jackson nods in understanding. "That's the code name, now, is it? You're calling his place, 'Meredith's'? Or should it be 'Thatcher's?'" He frowns. "Nah, that one's been overused, hasn't it? Lost it's shock value."

"Excuse me," Jackson's lawyer Ben cuts in with a hand on his client's arm. "But can we get back to this point?"

"Yes," Lexie growls. "Let's get back to the point."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jackson steps in, turning to his lawyer. "Yes, we're still on point. That's why we're going through this, after all." He turns back to Lexie, his eyes dimmed and cold. "Because _she's_ been fucking an ex-boyfriend for eight years, during six of which, I should mention, we were _married._" He stares across the table at her, punctuating his statement with a sharp and bitter laugh. "But that was all a joke to you, though, wasn't it? Didn't mean anything, did it?"

Lexie glares at him, crossing her arms without responding.

"Oh, are you upset?" He asks her, propping his chin up with one elbow on the edge of the table. A mocking pout decorates his face. "Did I embarrass you, Lex?"

Lexie just shakes her head. She takes a breath, sitting back in her seat. "God, I am so happy we're not in a courtroom right now."

"Yeah, this would all be pretty embarrassing in front of a judge, wouldn't it?"

"Can we just get this over with, please?" Lexie asks, turning away from her husband and towards her lawyer.

"Oh, so you can run home to Seattle?" Jackson taunts.

Lexie closes her eyes, bites her tongue, and instead of replying, she stares at her lawyer. Without missing a beat, Whitney switches topics.

"We'll revisit that subject later," Whitney begins. "For now, why don't we move on…"

. . .

_Thursday: Week Three_

_9 AM_

_. . ._

_M: Call me if you need me._

_L: You should worry about your phone bill when you say that._

_M: Call me if you need me._

_. . ._

"Are you going to be civil this time?" Lexie demands as she steps into the conference room, not at all surprised to see that he arrived before her and that both lawyers are already present.

"Depends," Jackson replies, tapping the wooden table with his knuckles lightly. "Have you slept with him since I last saw you?"

"It's been two days since I saw you, Jackson," she replies indignantly taking a seat across from him despite already wanting to leave the room. Or at least have their lawyers out of earshot.

"And yet the question remains."

"No," she states firmly. "I haven't."

"Huh." Jackson stares at her. "Weird that I don't trust you, isn't it?" He squints at her face. "Oh, maybe it's due to the fact that you've been an adulterous _bitch_ for the last six years."

"_Jackson_," Lexie cuts in, barely able to believe he'd spoken to her like that. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Ben staring at his client in shock.

"Oh, sorry, was that uncivil?" He asks politely, raising a hand to calm her down. "Maybe next time I'll _think twice _before I speak."

"_All _I am asking of you is that we sort through this like adults," Lexie tells him as if he hadn't spoken. "All I'm asking is that we _try_ to be civil to each other."

"Oh, that's all your asking?" Jackson questions. "Well, then, I'm sorry. Those are such simple demands; they must've slipped my mind." He leans forward, staring her dead in the face and lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "But you'd understand, wouldn't you? I mean, you forgot we were married every time we crossed the Washington border…"

Lexie exhales angrily, crossing her arms to put space between them. "What is _wrong _with you today?" She asks sharply.

"Oh, I don't know," he answers with artificial ignorance. "Ever heard of a little thing called divorce?" He asks as the door opens behind him and their respective lawyers take their seats. "It tends to make people a little unhappy, you know."

. . .

_8 PM_

_. . ._

"I thought the anger was done with," Lexie sighs into her phone, sliding her key card into the slot and opening the door to her hotel room. "But he just gets worse and worse every time I see him."

"Well," Mark replies, trying to be diplomatic. "I can't quite say that I'm surprised."

"I am," Lexie says, letting the door click shut behind her.

"Lex, you can't expect him not to be angry."

"I know that. I just… I thought after all the fighting… I thought that was it. I mean, he said he was letting me go and—"

"And then he drove down here and we got into a fistfight," Mark finishes for her. "Lex, he isn't just going to get over this. The more real it becomes, the more he's going to fight it and the angrier he's going to get." He sighs. "I'm sorry, but that's what's going to happen."

"I know," she replies softly, knowing he's more than right. Lexie shrugs off her coat and pulls her purse off her shoulder. She lets both drop to the floor as she slumps against the wall. "I just wish this was all over with," she whispers into the phone. "I… I'm just _so tired_ and I… I wish I could come home, Mark."

"I wish you could come home, too," he replies softly.

They stay on the line for a few silent seconds before Lexie admits that she should probably go to bed soon and try to sleep off some of her exhaustion.

"That's a good idea," Mark notes quietly.

"Yeah," Lexie sighs, hearing the reluctance in his voice. "I'm sorry. I just feel like—" _Tap-tap. _Lexie breaks off, hearing a knock on the door. "Um, Mark, I have to go. There's someone at the door."

"Is it him?"

"I don't know. I'll call you back in a minute, okay?"

"Okay," he replies easily. "Bye."

"Bye," Lexie says, hanging up the phone before walking to the hotel room's only door. She glances through the fisheye but sees no one. Confused, she opens the door—and almost jumps in surprise at who she sees leaning against the wall. Mark Sloan grins when he sees her hand fly to her chest and the startled look on his face.

"Teach me?" He asks, mimicking the wide-eyed look he remembered seeing on her face all those years ago just before he'd kissed her for the first time.

Lexie drops her head to the side of the doorframe, but when she looks up, she's grinning. "What are _you _doing here?" She laughs.

"I thought I'd show up at your door for a change," Mark smiles, stepping forward. "Plus, I heard through the grapevine that you had a bad day."

"And you're here to make me feel better?" Lexie guesses with a chuckle.

"I'm here to make you forget everything else," Mark replies seriously as he leans towards her, placing his hands on her small waist. "But us."

Lexie smiles at him, allowing a soft kiss before pulling back. "Thank you. But, uh, I'm actually _really_ tired. You know, I meant it when I said… I'm exhausted, Mark…"

"I'll do all the work," Mark offers with a suggestive smirk, stepping forward.

She grimaces, walking back into her room. "And I'm not really in the mood after that meeting…"

"What?" He asks with mock outrage as he follows her inside. "I show up here after not seeing you for weeks at a time and you're not in the _mood_? Get _in _the mood!"

Lexie shakes her head with a smile.

"Would it help if I stripped?" Mark asks seriously.

"God," Lexie laughs, closing the door behind them. "_No_."

"What? I'm good at it."

Lexie giggles. "Right. Sure." She looks up at him. "And what do I do, just stand here looking dumbstruck?"

Mark thinks for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I think that's exactly what I did." He smiles second later, taking her hand. "Come on. If you're tired, let's go to sleep, then."

"You sure?" She looks up at him, worried. "You came all the way out here—"

"—to be with you," Mark interrupts softly. "I don't really care what we're doing, just as long as we're together. And you're tired, so let's go to sleep."

"You're perfect." Lexie smiles gratefully up at him. "Thank you."

He smiles back, taking her hand and walking towards the bed. "But I'll be expecting a refund on the sex," he whispers in her ear before walking to the opposite side.

"I knew there was a catch," Lexie smiles, lying down on the bed.

"There's always a catch with me," he replies, moving to lie next to her. "You should know that by now, love," murmurs, kissing her hair softly as they lie side by side.

. . .

_10 years ago..._

_. . ._

_They collapse beside each other on the bed, desperate to catch their missing breath. "Well," Lexie beings when she can speak a minute later. "That was…"_

_"Interesting," Mark finishes for her, slightly breathless as he catches her eye with a smile._

_"'Interesting?'" Lexie quotes with a laugh. "That's the best you've got?"_

_"What? You're the first intern to ever strip for me, Little Grey. It'd call that interesting."_

_"Hm," Lexie muses. "I would have thought you'd have a few more explicit words than 'interesting' to use," she replies, causing Mark to laugh. "But really?" Lexie asks after a moment, her eyebrows raised. "I'm the first intern you've been with? Somehow I find that hard to believe."_

_"Well, not the first I've slept with," Mark concedes. "But definitely the first who's stripped."_

_"I'm glad I made an impression," Lexie replies. "Even if it was only 'interesting,'" she adds, rolling her eyes humorously before sitting up in bed. It's silent in the room for a few moments as she quickly slips out from the covers and gets to her feet. Mark lies back in bed, admiring her naked figure with an appreciative eye before she begins gathering her clothes. "What are you doing?" He asks, eyebrows drawn down._

_"Oh, I…" Lexie looks down at the pile of clothes in her hand. "I—I thought I sh—should… You know, I should pro—probably go. That'd be the good thing to do, you know, go. And just, uh, leave you to…you. So I'll," Lexie points to the bathroom. "I'll just, uh, get changed."_

_Mark smirks at her. "What? You strip for me in front of an open door, we have fantastic sex, and now you can't put on clothes without a wall between us? Really?"_

_Lexie finds herself smiling like an idiot at the word 'fantastic.' _I'm fantastic? _She thinks, quickly working her grin into a frown. "I, uh, I just thought," she begins, trying to cover for herself. "I—"_

_"You're fine, Grey." He waves a hand, glancing to her side of the bed before his eyes return to her face. "And you don't have to go."_

_Lexie stares at him, unsure if he's screwing with her_. He _is_ Mark Sloan, after all_, she thinks. _You can't exactly expect him to stick to his words_. "What do you mean?"_

_"I mean, I'm not going to have you walking around downtown Seattle at midnight."_

_"Oh, I'll be fine," Lexie waves him off. "I've lived here all my life and plus I—"_

_"Look, I get it," Mark cuts in. "This is a one-night stand and you're feeling weird about it." He stares at her. "As much less awkward it might be if you left, I'm not putting you out on the street in the middle of winter at midnight. You can stay the night."_

_"You're sure?" Lexie asks dubiously._

_"Grey, you're the only competent intern I've got. I'm not running the risk of you disappearing down some dark alley and never coming back."_

_"Aw," Lexie mocks, dropping her clothes to the floor and standing naked in front of him. "You care about me."_

_"Your brain," Mark corrects, letting his eyes flicker down her bare body before returning to her face. "I care about preserving your knowledge. It's very useful."_

_"You what to know something?" Lexie asks, heading back towards the bed. Instead of staying on her side, though, she moves to his, straddling his naked waist. "My body's useful too."_

_"Lexie," he groans as her skin touches his._

_"So," she begins, bending down to kiss him. "Mark," she murmurs with a slight shiver. Lexie couldn't help it; she feels sparks of electricity flit through her body at just saying his name. They've been 'Dr. Sloan' and 'Dr. Grey' for so long, and as odd as it may seem, being on a first-name basis—for however brief a time—is quite exciting._

_"Hm?" He asks against her lips, oblivious._

_She pulls back a fraction of an inch so she can speak. "Is this really only a _**one-time**_ thing?"_

_"Can I rephrase?" Mark asks with a wicked glint in his eye. She nods, allowing it. "It's a one-_**night**_ thing."_

_"Ah," Lexie chuckles. "Right."_

_"They're called a one-_**night**_ stands for a reason, Lexie. We get _**all **_night," Mark reminds her, bending forward to kiss a seductive path from her lips to her neck. "And if you haven't realized, the night is conveniently not over yet," he murmurs against her skin. Lexie feels a small smile take shape on other face, feeling even happier when she knows he can't see it._

_"So this is a one-night thing," Lexie repeats, rocking her body towards his._

_"All night long," Mark finishes for her, his warm breath flowing across her skin._

_. . ._

_"You still in love with O'Malley?" Mark asks an hour later, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. He leans against the headboard with his hands clasped behind his head, eyeing her as she lies next to him._

_Lexie meets his eyes over the pile of pillows between them. "I'm _**here**_, aren't I? What do you think?"_

_"Oh, god," Mark groans, letting his arms fall to his sides and putting a hand over his eyes. "This is bad. I should never have let you in. Now you'll be obsessed with_**me**_. You'll fall in love with _**me**_."_

_"You didn't let me in, I walked in," Lexie corrects. "And—ugh, _**god**_, no," she shudders, not even bothering to hide the horror on her face. "I am _**not**_ falling in love with you. I don't just fall in love with every guy I see, you know. It's not that simple. And you're…just…" She shakes her head; scrunching her nose in distaste. "_**No**_."_

_"Oh, excuse me," Mark replies, looking over at her with an offended air. "I am—"_

_"Trust me when I say it won't happen," Lexie cuts in. "You're the _**worst**_."_

_"_**What**_?" Mark squawks in faux outrage. "After what you've experienced tonight? After all the mind-blowing sex we've had, you're calling me the 'worst?' Are you kidding me, Grey? You're toast. You'll be falling for me before the night is out."_

_Lexie chuckles. "Believe whatever helps you sleep at night, Dr. Sloan."_

_"Don't lie, you know you want to spend the rest of your life with me," he taunts._

_"Yes, you and the twenty other women you're currently sleeping with."_

_"Twenty-five," Mark deadpans._

_"Ha-ha," Lexie replies flatly. "And don't worry," she assures him. "I won't be falling for you and tarnishing your pristine womanizing reputation. Plus, I'm able to separate my men into one-night stands and potential life partners."_

_"Oh, you've got it down, do you?" Mark chuckles. "You have all this experience, huh?"_

_"Well, obviously not as much as you do," Lexie points out. "But I have a good amount. Enough to know what's worth pursing and what's not."_

_"So I'm not a guy worth pursing, is what you're saying? Not a 'life partner?'" He quotes with a smirk._

_"You kidding me?" Lexie laughs. "You couldn't be faithful to one woman if your life depended on it!"_

_"And how do you know that?"_

_"You've slept with half of the nursing staff!"_

_Mark's eyes shift over to her with a grin. "Three-fourths, actually." He shakes his fist in near-accomplishment. "I'm nearly there. I'm so close, I can almost _**taste **_it," he finishes, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her._

_"You're awful," Lexie replies, her shoulders shaking with laughter._

_"But," Mark continues, holding up a finger. "Back to this ridiculous idea you have that you _**won't**_ be falling in love with me…"_

_Lexie rolls her eyes. "You want a straight answer?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Well," Lexie deliberates. "To put it gently… _**NO. **_Not a chance in hell for you and me."_

_Mark chuckles at her firm tone. "Honestly, Little Grey," he admits a few seconds later, "I can't say I disagree with you."_

_"And what is it with guys like you, anyway?" Lexie continues, curious as well. "You _**always**_ think that every woman you sleep with is going to end up worshipping you or falling for you. Where__in the _**world **_does that self-assurance come from?"_

_"Experience." Mark grins. "It's happened before."_

_"Ugh," Lexie frowns. "Count me out. Oh, and by the way," she adds. "What did you mean _**I **_was going to fall for _**you**_?" Lexie asks, pointing at him. "_**You**_ were the one telling _**me**_ not to leave just a few hours ago!"_

_"Yeah, to get laid!"_

_"You said it was for my safety, you pig!" Lexie replies, laughing despite trying to look outraged._

_"Prude," Mark counters._

_"Prude?" Lexie repeats dubiously. "I believe _**I **_was the one stripping, not you!"_

_"Stripping doesn't make you not a prude."_

_"Oh, is that so? Then what does?"_

_"Come over here and I'll tell you," Mark replies, crooking his fingers towards his half of the bed as a grin spreads over his face._

_"You come over here," Lexie replies, sliding down to lie fully on the sheets with her arms spread out behind her neck. She smiles over at him. "I'm _**much**_ more comfortable on this side."_

_"So picky," Mark murmurs, making his way across the bed to her._

_. . ._

_"Can I ask you a question?"_

_"Yeah?" Lexie asks, looking over. She's surprised by the hard look in his eyes._

_"What were you thinking, showing up here?"_

_"Oh," Lexie says slowly, blinking at him. "Is this the part where you kick me out?" She asks, pointing to the door. "Because now it's about two in the morning, which, I would say, is a lot more dangerous for a lone woman to be roaming the streets than midnight…"_

_"I'm not kicking you out," Mark replies. "I said you could stay, didn't I?"_

_Lexie stares at him for a moment before lying back on the pillows again._

_"So?" He presses. "Are you going to answer?"_

_"What? Oh, I don't know. It just… felt like something that had to happen."_

_Mark sits up, turning his head to stare at her._

_"What?" Lexie asks when she sees the concerned look on his face._

_"What do you mean, it felt like something that had to happen? I promised Derek I—I mean, I wasn't hitting on you," he covers quickly._

_"I'm aware of that."_

_"So… What, the idea just popped into your head?"_

_"A friend of mine might've mentioned that you were interested," Lexie hints._

_"Oh, so you decided stripping naked would be the best way to find out if it was true?"_

_"I was impressed, is all," Lexie replies, ignoring his question. "You made her speak. And you're a good teacher." She blushes slightly at the word, but stares him in the eye nonetheless. "Why don't you believe me?"_

_"Because if that were true, there should be hundreds of women appearing at my door every night."_

_Lexie shrugs. "Not everyone is turned on by surgery."_

_Mark bursts out laughing at this, causing Lexie to glare at him._

_"What?" Lexie replies, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "It's true."_

_"I can't believe you—Little Grey—just said that surgery turns you on," he replies, still laughing._

_She stares at him in disapproval before a small smile starts to spread over her face. "Maybe it's just _**your **_surgeries," she jokes. A moment later her expression sobers, and she exhales softly, leaning her head against the pillow to look him in the eye. "It really _**was **_amazing, though," she tells him seriously. "I've never seen anything like it."_

_Mark waves a hand. "It was just a surgery. And you're an intern, you haven't seen much."_

_"You gave a mute woman her _**voice**_ again," Lexie replies solemnly. "Her _**voice. **_Even Dr. Bailey was impressed, and that is saying something. You might as well be performing miracles. Hell, you _**are **_performing miracles."_

_He grins at this. "So I'm God?" He concludes._

_Lexie shakes her head, burying it into the pillow in regret. "I shouldn't have said that. Your ego is already annoyingly huge."_

_"Yes, but it has a _**right **_to be that huge. I'm fantastic." He taps her arm, causing Lexie to glance up. "Hey. You just slept with God."_

_"Please don't. You sound like an idiot."_

_"I sound brilliant," Mark argues. He grins, shaking his head before tilting it towards her, serious again. "But, come on. Be serious, there had to be something else. I mean, I realize I'm God now, but there was something more than just the surgery."_

_Lexie looks over at him, and he's unsure if there's something hidden behind her eyes. "What was it?" He presses._

_"Why do you want to know so bad?" She asks quietly._

_"I just…" He stares at her before glancing down at his hands. A moment later his eyes are on her again, but there was no taking back his hesitance to answer. "I just want to know," he replies._

_"Well," Lexie sighs after a moment. "If you _**must**_ know, a friend of mine said you were…looking at my ass. I decided to find out if she was right."_

_"So you came here and stripped naked in front of me to see if I'd jump you instead of, oh, I don't know, asking me to fuck off and stop looking at you?"_

_"So you _**were** _looking at me!"_

_"Maybe," Mark grins. He nods towards her lower half. "You _**do** _have_ _a nice ass."_

_Lexie rolls her eyes. "Thank you for that spectacular compliment. No wonder the women are always flocking to you. You're so earnest and polite."_

_"When you look like me, who needs to be earnest and polite?"_

_Lexie stares at him in disbelief. "I am going to _**hit**_ you," she manages after a speechless moment._

_"Hit me?" Mark chuckles. "Why? Because you know there was a bit more than a single grain of truth in what I said?"_

_"I'm going to hit you because that was a shitty thing to say!"_

_"Yeah, but it was also true." She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at his stupidity. "Think about it, all those assholes who get girls, and all the women who act like bitches to men. It's all about how they _**look**_, not who they _**are**_."_

_"Yes, which is why they're all perpetual whores."_

_"You know, it's the same for you, too."_

_"What?" Lexie laughs._

_He shrugs, gesturing to her. "You don't need to be nice to guys either, not with the way you look."_

_Lexie narrows her eyes at him in confusion. "So… Was that supposed to be a compliment or…?"_

_"Take it whatever way you want."_

_"You're telling me to be a bitch to guys just because I _**can**_? That's horrible."_

_"I'm not telling you to, but yes, I am saying you _**can**_."_

_Lexie shakes her head at him. "No wonder you don't have a girlfriend. You're an ass."_

_"Don't act all surprised," Mark replies offhandedly, relaxing against the hotel's pillows. "You knew who I was before you showed up here, Grey."_

_. . ._

_"So, I get the whole reputation," Lexie begins, opening her hands in front of her. "This whole 'playboy' thing you've got going on… But do you really have to live in a hotel?" She wrinkles her nose._

_"What?"_

_"Well… It's kind of been done before."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"It's like you're a whore."_

_"Oh, thanks."_

_"That's just what it looks like, is all I'm saying. Women come to and fro… In a hotel. You're a cliché."_

_"Oh, and you're not?" Mark mocks. He looks her over as he speaks. "The young, virginal girl seducing the troubled bad boy? Please. You're just as much a cliché as I am."_

_"V—Virginal?" Lexie protests hotly. "What in the hell—"_

_Mark rolls his eyes. "Calm down, Lassie. I didn't mean it literally."_

_"Fine," Lexie mutters after a second. "We're both clichés." She pauses. "At least I'm not a whore," she mutters._

_"You _**are** _rude, though."_

_"What? You can take a shot. What am I?"_

_"Annoying," Mark replies, his tone clearly conveying the description._

_"Wow, I certainly haven't heard _**that one**_ before," Lexie replies sarcastically._

_"You're also a know-it-all."_

_"You _**just** _said you were impressed by my brain," Lexie points out._

_"Yeah, and I told you why I said that, didn't I?" He leans forward, his voice a whisper. "To get laid."_

_Lexie rolls her eyes at him, but a grin spreads on her face anyway. "It seems like that's your only goal in life," she notes._

_"It's a noble one," Mark replies seriously before grinning back, looking over to meet her eyes. "And who are you to complain? It's not like you're a part of my life. You're just a passing…"_

_"Fancy?" Lexie finishes with a smile. "Yeah, that's true. I am just passing through your life, and you through mine, but still… Isn't there more to life than just getting off for you?"_

_"Not really," he replies off-handedly._

_"Well, there has to be. I mean, you're… Wait, how old are you?"_

_"Older than you," Mark answers._

_"Yes, I know that." She looks him in the eye, waiting for an answer._

_"I'm not telling you my age," Mark warns her._

_"What are you, a menopausal woman? Why do you care about age?"_

_"Oh, so only _**women**_ can be worried about their age?"_

_"You're _**worried** _about it?" Lexie asks, trying and failing not to laugh._

_"No, I'm not worried," Mark replies as she quiets the giggles escaping from her throat. "I'm just… older than you…by a good amount."_

_"Who cares?" She replies, throwing her hands in the air. "It's one night between us, what does it matter?"_

_"All I'm saying is I'm older than you," Mark replies._

_"Well… Fine," Lexie replies. "There you go, then. You're older than me. Big whoop." She stares at him for a moment. "You know, you should get your life together if you think you're so old," she tells him seriously. "Find someone to take care of you before you start falling apart."_

_Mark shakes his head, frowning._

_"Come on," Lexie smiles, glancing over at him. She holds back the urge to nudge him into answering with her elbow. This isn't a time for friendship. Or at least, it wasn't. "You don't want to find somebody? Make a family? Grow old together and then die in each other's arms while professing your endless love, et cetera, et cetera?"_

_"I am not a _**girl**_, Grey."_

_"So what? Men can fall in love, settle down, and have families too. In fact, they do it all the time. It's called—" she fake-gasps "—_**marriage.**_"_

_"Yes, but there's usually a woman involved. And if you haven't noticed, I don't form lasting relationships with women."_

_"Have you ever even tried?"_

_Mark glances away. "Yes."_

_"Didn't work out?" Lexie guesses._

_"Didn't work out," he affirms._

_"So try again. Look for another person."_

_"What are you, my life coach?" He snaps._

_"I'm trying to help you out; are you really not going accept it?"_

_"I didn't ask for your help."_

_"So? You can still take it."_

_"You're trying to make my life fulfilling," Mark informs her. "And my life is fine."_

_"Right," Lexie snorts._

_"What?" Mark asks, turning to her. "Come on, name one thing that's wrong with my life besides the fact that you think I sleep around too much. By the way," he adds. "You can consider yourself an enabler of that lifestyle."_

_"You live in a hotel," Lexie replies, ignoring his last comment._

_"Yeah, but it's a _**nice** _one. Seriously, did you feel these sheets? They're _**silk**_. And living here is so much easier than living in an apartment anyway. There's a maid, room service, a thousand TV channels…"_

_"But not a thing for yourself," Lexie points out. "Look around; all of this is duplicated in each and every room on each and every floor." She pauses, eyeing him. "Don't you want something for yourself? Your own space?"_

_"I do have my own space," Mark replies. "It's called an operating room. All mine, as far as the scalpel can reach."_

_"I meant a _**personal** _space," Lexie presses._

_"ORs are personal."_

_"They're the complete _**opposite**_ of personal. They're pristine, sterile, and all the same. Plus, you cut people open in there and sometimes—sometimes you make things worse, sometimes they die. That isn't personal."_

_Mark frowns, looking over to her. "Death, apart from birth, is probably the most personal experiences you'll ever have if you share it with someone. Those are two of the few times in life when you're at your most vulnerable." He looks her in the eye. "And trust me, having someone die on your table is pretty damn personal."_

_"Sorry," Lexie mutters automatically, averting her eyes. "I hadn't realized—I mean I should've realized—"_

_"All right, well, what do you want me to do?" Mark interrupts, disregarding her apology. "Hang a painting beside the gallery? Put up some paint swatches and redo the walls?"_

_"I think you should get your own place."_

_"Great," Mark replies flatly. "I'll think about it."_

_"You aren't going to think about it," Lexie states a second later as she studies his face._

_"And Grey gets the gold star!" He responds with over-the-top enthusiasm. "No, I'm not, Lassie," he continues in a lower, more annoyed tone. "I like it here."_

_"You're boring."_

_"And you're pathetic. What else is new?"_

. . .

_"Can I ask you something?" Lexie whispers in the dark, staring at the ceiling while she speaks._

_"Hm?" Mark yawns, blinking through his sleep. "Yeah," he allows tiredly, "what is it, Grey?"_

_"Why…" She glances to him, nervous that she might be crossing a line but unable to read his face. "Why did you sleep with Derek's wife?"_

_"Addison?" Mark asks. She can see him wipe the sleep from his eyes._

_"Yeah."_

_He sighs, tiredly running a hand over his face and not bothering to wonder how she found out. Everyone knows everyone else's business in this town. "Because I was in love with her."_

_Lexie's eyes widen at this, finding his. "What? You were?"_

_Mark glances over at her with a knowing look in his eye. "Try to contain your skepticism, Little Grey. Us God-like man-whores can fall in love, too."_

_"Was she… Was she the relationship that didn't work out?"_

_"Yup."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_Mark shrugs. "Not your affair." The side of his mouth curves upwards at his involuntary word choice. "Not your problem, I mean."_

_"Still," Lexie says softly. "I'm sorry."_

_"Yeah, me too. It doesn't matter anymore, though."_

_"Was it… Was it worth breaking up their marriage for it? Did you two last at all?"_

_Mark shrugs. "A few months. But then, uh, she flew out here, trying to get Derek back. And that was it."_

_"But you're here, too."_

_"I followed her."_

_"Why? If she'd left—"_

_"Like I said, I loved her. Or I thought I did, at least. And I couldn't just let her walk away. I thought we were… I thought there was...something...between us, and I didn't want her to give up just because there was someone else."_

_"You mean Derek. Her husband was the 'someone else,'" Lexie points out quietly._

_"Yeah." Mark yawns. "Derek."_

_"You know," Lexie begins, "I still can't believe that you guys are friends after all that. I mean, you see Derek everyday. If I were him, I'd probably attack you the first chance I got and then never want to see you again."_

_"Oh, that happened." Mark smirks slightly. "He throws a good punch for a pretty boy."_

_"He hit you?" Lexie asks incredulously. She chuckles softly a second later. "I would have liked to see that."_

_"What? See me on the ground, bleeding? Real nice, Grey."_

_"No, I just meant… I don't know. I can't even picture the two of you fighting, and to be honest—I can't see Derek winning."_

_"He's stronger than he looks," Mark replies. "And it wasn't really a fight, he just came up and whacked me in the face, no preamble. I didn't even see it coming; he was behind me."_

_"Wait," Lexie mutters, sitting up._

_"What? What is it?"_

_She looks over to him in the darkness, squinting to try to see clearer. "Is that what that scar is from?"_

_"Scar?" Mark asks, sitting up as well. "There is _**not **_a scar on my face."_

_"Look, you said he blindsided you, so it's not that big of a deal. And don't guys like scars anyway? Makes them look all tough or whatever?"_

_"Yeah, well, _**I **_do not like scars." He reaches up, running his hand over his cheekbone. "And I stitched this myself." He looks over to her. "There is no scar," he tells her firmly, as if wanting her to repeat the phrase and make it true._

_"Wait, you…" She smiles, sitting back and shaking her head in amazement. "You didn't."_

_"I didn't what?"_

_"You did _**not **_suture your own face!"_

_"I'm a plastic surgeon, Grey," he replies gruffly. "Of course I sutured my own face."_

_"No, you… Wait, wait, how did you even do that?" She lifts her hands to her own face, mimicking the action. "You'd need to… Well, wait…"_

_"You need very talented hands, is what you need," Mark replies, lying back down._

_Lexie narrows her eyes at him. "Are you implying that my hands aren't talented, Dr. Sloan?"_

_"No, no, they're…talented." He smiles. "But can you really be compared to the hand of god? I mean, come on."_

_"Ugh," Lexie rolls her eyes, flopping back down on her side of the bed and turning away from him. "Good-**night**__, you narcissistic egomaniac."_

_Mark laughs at the new title. "Night, Little Grey. Thanks for stopping by."_

_"I'll be gone in the morning, you know." Mark detects a rather obvious trace of annoyance in her voice, as if she thought threatening to leave before he woke up would be a punishment. He smiles, amused at her assumption._

_"Perfect," he yawns with blatant disinterest. "Then I won't have to bother kicking you out when I wake up."_

. . .

"How long can you stay?" Lexie whispers, staring up at him.

"Not long," Mark frowns, looking down at her head resting on his stomach. "I've got an early flight back."

Lexie smiles at him, her face displaying something far from the upset expression he'd envisioned her wearing while having this conversation. "You came down here just for a night? Just to see me?"

"Well, I didn't come up here to see Avery, if that's what you're wondering."

She bends forward, kissing him in thanks. "I also came for the possibility of sex," Mark adds, ducking down to meet her lips. "Which you are selfishly denying me."

"Oh, shut it," Lexie mutters, separating their lips. "You knew it was a bad day. It's your fault for showing up wanting."

"It's your fault for not being turned on just at the sight of me," Mark replies matter-of-factly.

Lexie rolls her eyes. "Oh, please."

"Should I perform surgery? Would that help?"

"Quiet, you," Lexie mutters, pushing the smirk off his face with her hand. "That is not to be talked about."

"You're adorable when you're humiliated."

"I am not _humiliated_," Lexie replies fiercely.

Mark just smiles down at her. "By the way," Mark murmurs, leaning over to brush her lips softly with his. "Just for the record, I wasn't in the mood that night, either."

"Oh, yeah?" Lexie asks, her embarrassment fading as a smile spreads across her face. "Did I put you in it, then?"

"Mm," Mark mutters, leaning back against the pillows. "You have no idea."

"That was the best night of my life," Lexie admits softly a couple seconds later. Mark opens his eyes, glancing over to her in silent confusion. "When I showed up at your hotel room," she explains. "That was the best night of my life."

Lexie can feel him shift on the bed beside her and, a moment later, smile against the skin of her shoulder. "I knew I blew your mind," he murmurs into her ear.

"Other way around," Lexie replies with a chuckle. "And I wasn't talking about sex, I just meant… That was the first time I'd really had _fun _with someone since moving back to Seattle. First time I actually talked and laughed with someone without feeling tested or judged. Which is weird," she adds, "considering you were my boss and what we did was totally inappropriate."

"Yeah, well, if you can believe it, it was the same for me."

"What?" Lexie laughs, turning around to look in his eyes. "What about all the hot nurses?"

"The hot nurses were hot," Mark replies honestly. "But _you _were interesting. Intriguing. I liked talking to you almost as much as I liked sleeping with you, and I didn't want you to leave when it was over."

"I know." Lexie smiles at the memory. "You made me stay."

"I did, but that was more for your well-being than anything else at the time. No offense," he adds, glancing over to her.

"None taken," Lexie replies easily. "It was the beginning; you didn't know me yet. And I just assumed you wanted to get off, anyway."

"That is also true," Mark smiles. "But once we started talking…" He trails off, unable to find the words.

"I know," Lexie whispers, snuggling her body against his. "I didn't want to stop, either."

She takes a deep breath, leaning her head back against his chest and smiling when his hands move to wrap around her body. "Sometimes…" She shakes her head with an embarrassed smile. "Sometimes, I still can't believe I did that. I mean… God, it was really stupid of me."

"You know," Mark counters softly, "it really wasn't."

"Mark, we worked together and you were my _boss_. We saw each other everyday; it wasn't like I could ignore you if talked to me in the halls."

"Oh, right," Mark rolls his eyes. "And what would I have said in the halls that would be so bad? Just yelled out, in front of everyone: 'Hey, guess what! Lexie Grey showed up at my hotel room last night and stripped naked! And we slept together! Can you believe that?'"

Lexie frowns. "I wouldn't have put it past you."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I didn't want to see you in the halls then, anyway."

"That's mean," Lexie mutters, turning to see his face.

"No, it isn't mean." He grins at her wary expression. "I just didn't think I'd be able to talk to you for five seconds back then without dragging you off to an on-call room."

"Well, dragging me off to the Archfield wasn't much better," Lexie replies dryly.

"Hey, it's a nice hotel," Mark says. "I really don't know why you hate it so much."

"I don't hate it," Lexie corrects him. "It's just not…_you_. But your apartment is perfect." She smiles at him. "I like that."

"Hm," Mark grunts.

"And, by the way," Lexie adds. "I was having _fun_ at Joe's. I _rarely _had time off, and then you go showing up and ruining it."

"Ruining it? You saying you didn't want to see me?"

"Well, I did, but…"

"What?"

"Truthfully, it was so much more fun watching you try to _not_ to speak to me than you actually speaking to me."

"Oh, okay," Mark mutters, looking away with fake dejection.

"Oh, don't be upset!" Lexie protests with a laugh. "It was just funny, okay? I'd never had someone act like that around me before." She leans over, kissing his cheek quickly and watching as his lips twitch towards a smile for the briefest second. "I liked it. Plus, it was _you _so it was doubly amusing."

"Why does it being me make it doubly amusing?" Mark asks after a second.

"Because you were always so smooth and show-off-y around women. You were always so collected and in control of every situation." She grins, laughing slightly. "I had you grasping at straws." She shakes her head. "And, honestly, I really have no idea what I was doing that got you so flustered. I mean, really, it was just me standing there in scrubs—which are probably the most shapeless type of clothing. There wasn't even anything for you to look at!"

"Yeah, well, I think your face was enough." He grins over at her. "You know, just enough to spark my imagination."

Lexie rolls her eyes. "I have no idea why I put up with you."

"You love me," Mark replies easily.

Lexie turns, smiling at him. She takes his face in her hands, kissing him. "I do."

He smiles back at her before his eyes catch sight of the blinking red numbers on the clock sitting on her bedside table. "What happened to you being exhausted?" He questions a moment later with a grin. "We really have to stop talking so much or neither of us are going to get any sleep."

"We're just making up for lost time," Lexie smiles, moving closer. "What's so bad about that?"

"There nothing _bad _about it," Mark replies. "I would just like it if you slept more."

"You mean you'd like it if we slept _together _more."

He stares at her, his face blank. "Have you been reading my mind again?"

"No, you're just very transparent," Lexie laughs. "To me, at least," she adds after a moment.

"As long as it's just you," Mark replies, "I don't care."

Lexie watches him for a few minutes, waiting for him to speak again. But when it's clear that he isn't going to speak, she nudges him gently. "What are you thinking about?" She whispers.

"Hm?" Mark asks, turning his head to look at her. "Oh, nothing. Just…" He looks down, and she watches as a secret smile spreads across his lips. "Just that first time you showed up."

Lexie freezes, feeling her previously light heart drop like a stone within her chest. "Oh, Mark," she whispers. "I—I said I was sorry. I didn't—"

"No, no, no," he cuts in before she can continue. "Not that." He smiles down at her. "The first time you _showed up_," he repeats, looking her dead in the eye.

"Oh." Lexie tries to contain a blush, surprised in herself at being so bashful after all these years. "That."

"Yes, that," Mark smiles. He reaches over, placing a few fingers beneath her chin, and draws her lips to his. He can feel her return the kiss for a few seconds before pulling back.

"Sorry I don't have as much energy tonight," Lexie apologizes tiredly, shifting away from him and finishing her statement with a yawn.

"It's fine," Mark assures her immediately. "I wasn't expecting—"

"Oh, don't lie." Lexie stares at him, her eyes warm. "Of course you were expecting."

Mark stares back a moment before a small smile spreads over his lips. "Maybe a little," he concedes after a moment.

"Maybe a lot," Lexie corrects with a matching smile.

. . .

"You looked so beautiful when you turned up at the Archfield," Mark murmurs later as he holds her close. "I'd been telling myself all week to stop looking at you, but then you were here and…" He closes his eyes, burying his face into her neck. She can hear him breath her scent in; she can feel him lean closer. "I just couldn't stop myself."

"You tried," Lexie tells him softly. "You tried to send me away."

"Yes, but you demanded my attention," Mark smiles, lifting his head from the crook of her neck. He leans forward, kissing her languorously. "Not that I minded," he whispers against her lips. A moment later, as his tongue begins tracing the subtle curve of her lips, Lexie has to force herself to pull back. He's still kissing her when she speaks.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, angling her lips away from his with straining reluctance. "I—I want to, but…"

Mark shakes his head, leaning away. "No, I'm sorry. I'm pushing you. You said you were tired and I shouldn't…"

"It's okay," Lexie smiles, reaching up and pecking his lips quickly before resting her head against his shoulder. "I usually love it when you're like this…"

"But you're tired," Mark finishes for her, pressing his lips to her hair. "I get it." They're quiet for a moment before he glances down to her. "You usually love it when I'm like what?" He asks softly.

"Hm?" Lexie murmurs. "Oh," she replies a moment later when his questioning eyes meet hers. "I love it when you act like that." His eyebrows draw together questioningly. "When—when you kiss me like…" She pauses, searching for the words. "Like each one won't be enough," she settles on. "Like you're drowning and you just have my lips to give you oxygen. Or when you—when you push like that, when you act like you can't get enough of me." A corner of her lip tips upwards. "I love it because I can't get enough of you either."

"Mm," Mark whispers, leaning over to kiss her softly. "You mean when I act like I can't get enough of you because I know you'll be gone in the morning? When this is all I have—just one time, just one last night between us?"

"Mark," Lexie whispers. "Oh, Mark, I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry," he cuts her off softly, looking her in the eye so she can see the honesty in his words. "I love it when you act like that, too."

"I… What?" Lexie asks, surprised and confused. "What do you mean, when I act like that, too?"

Mark smiles down at her. "You have your fair share of desperate kisses and frenzied nights, too, you know. It's not just me."

"I didn't realize you saw me as desperate," Lexie half-smiles, trying to lighten the conversation.

"I don't," Mark replies immediately. "But you are. You were." He pauses, staring at her and knowing she's waiting for proof. "When you were leaving for Portland," he explains quietly. As he utters the words, he hears her lungs catch a breath. No doubt she's thinking of the same night he was, but probably in a very different light to elicit such a response. "I didn't know you were going—you never told me—but I… Somehow, I could tell. I knew something was changing. You'd never acted like that with me before." He smiles softly and stares at her warmly despite the sadness in her expression. "You'd never stayed that long, either."

"I tried," Lexie whispers, her voice coming out hoarse with unshed tears. "I tried not to leave."

"I know," he replies, tucking a few stray stands of hair behind her ear. He takes a breath, his eyes locked with hers. "It took me a few days to realize what had happened after that. But by then, you were already gone. By then, you were in Portland. You'd moved."

"It was my last night," Lexie explains. "And I—"

"And you spent it with me," Mark finishes for her with a small smile Lexie doesn't feel she even deserves to see. "You stayed with me, one last time in Seattle before you had to leave."

"I tried," Lexie manages hoarsely. "I tried so hard not to leave. I tried so hard to stay by your side and stay in your arms. I—I tried to be your Lexie," she whispers tearfully. "Mark, I tried to be only yours."

"I know you did," he murmurs, holding her closer. "I know you tried, baby. I could tell. I knew."

"I missed you every day that I was gone. I thought about you every hour, every minute."

"I tried not to think about you," Mark admits with a weak chuckle. "But it didn't work very well. Everything always came back to you."

"Did you… Did you think I was leaving you behind?" Lexie wonders, half-scared to ask the question. "Did you think I'd never come back?"

Mark closes his eyes, but moves closer. "For a few months, I did." He smiles over at her as he opens them. "But then you were there. Then I came home one day and you were standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine just like you belonged there." Mark shakes his head with quiet cheer at the memory. "I was never so happy to see you in my entire life. I thought we were over, but—"

"We could never be over," Lexie interrupts, moving forward and kissing him soundly on the mouth. "Never. We've always been together. One way or another, we've always had each other."

He smiles at her words, whispering his own very softly. "I love you, Lexie."

"I love you too." She stares at him, her gaze sleepy and tender. "And we'll always be together," she murmurs. "I promise you once this is over, we won't ever be apart."

. . .

_Author's Note: If there are any of you that are still interested or still reading, **please review**! Again, I am **so sorry** that it took me so long to update. Thank you for reading. :)_


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:**

_Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and added this story to your alerts! It means the world to me that I know people are still interested :)_

. . .

_Friday_

. . .

"Hey, Lex, wake up."

"Hrm," she mutters, rolling away from his voice. "Go away."

"That's what I'm doing," Mark replies softly. "I wanted to say good-bye before my flight."

"What?" Lexie blinks, rolling back over. She looks up, seeing that he's already fully dressed. "You're going?" She asks through a yawn, pushing herself up in bed. She glances to the clock. 5 AM. "_Already_?"

"I told you I had an early flight," he replies, sounding slightly ashamed. "And I've got to get to the airport before six."

"Fine, fine," she mutters, sitting up tiredly in bed. "Go and leave me, why don't you."

His lips curve at her grumbling. "I'll be back," he replies, leaning down to kiss her quickly. "Or you'll be back," he says, straightening up. "Either way, we'll see each other."

"We could be seeing each other right now, but you're running out on me."

"I have a flight, Lex. I told you that. And a surgery."

"Fine," Lexie complains, falling back against the pillows as he walks to the door. "Bye."

"Bye, Lex."

"Love—" Lexie calls out before the door shuts. "You," she finishes lamely, rolling over in bed with a groan. A second later there's a knock on her door.

"Ugh," Lexie moans, getting to her feet. "Stupid maids," she mutters to herself. "Go away."

She pulls open the door, ready to tell the maid off for knocking so early, when Mark moves forward from his place in the hall, catching her off guard and kissing her deeply. Lexie sighs into the kiss, stepping forward just as he's breaking their lips' contact.

"Love you too," Mark says, pulling back with a smile. He tilts his wrist towards himself, checking the time. "But I gotta go."

"No, no, no," Lexie replies, pulling him back towards her with her hands on his jacket and a warm smile on her face. "Stay."

He shakes his head with a matching smile, reaching down to remove her hands from his clothing. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," Lexie coaxes, reaching up and drawing his mouth towards his with her hands splayed across his cheek. When their lips meet, she can feel him surrender to her advances, his breath escaping in a quiet sigh. "Mm, come on, Mark," she whispers against his lips a few seconds later. She steps backwards into the room, tugging him along with her. "I can make up for last night," she suggests, her eyes dark and alluring as they make contact with his.

Mark closes his eyes at the temptation, somehow forcing himself to pull back. "I can't," he says when they break apart. "I can't."

"What?" Lexie protests immediately. "Why not?"

"It's not that I don't wantto, it's just—" He lifts his hand, holding up his boarding pass with regret. "I have a plane to catch."

"Don't go," Lexie whispers, staring up into his torn eyes with longing clearly evident in her own. "Stay here. Stay with me, just for a couple hours more. Please?" She whispers, staring into his eyes.

Mark looks away, trying to avoid the yearning in her gaze. "I can't quite think when you talk like that, you know."

"Then don't think," Lexie suggests. "Just stay." She smiles at him as she steps closer. "Come on, when have we ever had the possibility of more time together like this before?"

"Lexie…"

"Just for a few hours?" She tempts softly.

"I have surgery."

"They'll find someone to cover for you."

Mark shakes his head. "They can't."

"Oh, come on," Lexie complains, reaching up and putting a hand on his neck. She strokes the skin there with her fingers. "Please?" She asks quietly, staring up at him. "For me?"

"All right," he calls quietly, his voice soft to show he isn't mad but firm enough to let her know he's serious. "Now _you're _being a bad influence on _me_," he tells her, stepping away and out of her grasp. He looks down at the longing in her face, taking her hands in his as they fall from his skin, and wishes he didn't have to leave. "I—I really have to go, Lex. I'm sorry," he tells her, his voice soft with contrition. "I really am. But I need to go."

She sighs once, stretching her legs upwards to kiss him hard on the mouth for a few seconds before stepping back. "Okay, fine," she says, returning her feet to the flat ground. "Go."

"I'm sorry." He presses his lips together, grimacing slightly, before reluctantly stepping away. "Bye."

Lexie offers him a small smile in comfort, suddenly remembering what he'd said to her months ago when she was in his position, leaving the other behind. "Bye, love," she calls quietly, watching him go.

His eyes light up in recognition at her words as he steps through the door, and he's able to direct a quick smile her way before the door falls shut between them.

. . .

_Monday, Week Four:_

_. . ._

_L: I miss you already._

_M: I know. I'm sorry I had to go._

_M: I miss you too._

_L: I'll be home soon._

_M: I'll be counting the days._

_L: I'm counting the hours._

. . .

"What are you so angry about _now_?" Lexie half-shouts in exasperation, tired of feeling her husband's angry gaze and half-hearing his muttered comments whenever she speaks. "What did I do _now_?"

"Oh, don't pretend like you don't know," Jackson snaps, glaring across the table at her.

"If we could," Ben tries to interrupt.

"I have _no _idea what has changed in the last week that's made you so angry! Honestly, Jackson, just tell me what I did and—"

"I _saw him_ at your hotel," Jackson replies, his voice coming out almost like a snarl. "I know he came to see you."

"He—" Lexie tries to cut in, feeling her heartbeat quicken. _He was there?_

"_Still_, Lexie?" He asks angrily, slamming his hand down on the table. "Even now? Even with me not _one mile_ away?"

"We didn't—"

"I don't care _what _you did with him," Jackson cuts in. "It's bad enough just knowing that he's _here_, that he's with you."

"But he—"

"It's bad enough just knowing that you _want him_," Jackson manages, his eyes slicing into her like daggers.

"Jackson," Lexie tries to explain. "I—"

"I'll see you on Thursday," he cuts in, pushing his chair back and standing up. He heads to the door, not bothering to wait for an excuse nor offer an explanation. "I hope you had fun with your little boyfriend," he spits out as he opens the door and walks out of the meeting.

Lexie, along with two speechless lawyers, watch him head down the hallway and walk immediately out the door. He doesn't stop when he reaches the outside, and Lexie's shocked eyes follow him down the street until he disappears from view.

The room is filled with unbroken silence for a few tense minutes.

"He…He was at my hotel," she manages, blinking her eyes and turning back to the two attorneys in the room. She looks to Whitney for guidance, but her attorney shakes her head in ignorance. "What was he doing at my hotel?" She whispers to no one in particular, her brown eyes downcast. "When was he there?"

Ben clears his throat lightly, and when Lexie glance up at the noise, he explains, "He wanted to speak with you."

"With me? Why?"

Ben sighs quietly before nodding. "He…felt bad about how he acted last week, he told me. He wanted to apologize…"

"What did he see?" Lexie whispers, her voice stricken. She can feel Whitney's comforting hand on her shoulder, but it offers her no solace now. "When was he there?"

Ben shrugs tiredly. "He… was there late Thursday night." He sighs. "I'm not sure what he saw, but he… He did mention that you were…_more_ than happy to see the other man. That you talked and laughed with him before…leading him inside. He," Ben clears his throat, "He mentioned some other things, but I'm not really sure if I should be repeating them."

"He saw," Lexie whispers, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "I can't believe that he saw us…"

_. . ._

"Hey, where were you last Saturday?" Callie asks her best friend. "I needed you for a consult—"

"Sorry," Mark replies. "There was somewhere I needed to be."

"And that somewhere wasn't this hospital?" She asks with a skeptical laugh. "Where were you?"

"I took some time off," he tells her, picking up the pace and walking past her.

"Yes, I gathered that much for myself, thanks." Callie smiles at him, falling into step beside her friend. "Come on, where were you?"

Mark glances over to his best friend, deliberating. She smiles back at him, and Mark suddenly realizes how little she knows about his life these days. They used to share everything, but somewhere between her making a family with Arizona and him staying up late for a secret knock on the door, they stopped talking about anything important. _Well, _he reasons, _since it'll all be public knowledge soon…_ "I might've… been with someone," he confides quietly, his eyes flicking to the side to meet hers.

"Someone?" Callie asks excitedly, her voice rising an octave as he looks away and pretends to act annoyed. "_Someone_? You mean a girl? Oh!" He glances back over, watching her face light up in realization. "_The _girl? The girlfriend? The one from Christmas?"

Mark opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, she's grabbed his arm and is dragging him towards the ER. "Torres, what are you—"

. . .

"I have big news," Callie announces, pulling the plastic surgeon with her towards the ER's desk. Arizona Robbins glances up at her wife's voice, her eyebrows raised in expectation.

"Callie, let go of me," Mark grumbles, shaking off her arm. "You can't just drag me wherever you wan—"

"Mark," the orthopedic surgeon announces over his complaints, "has just told me he's got a girlfriend."

"Oh, you do?" Arizona asks, looking up from her charts with a polite smile. "Who is she?"  
>"That's what I've been trying to figure out, too," Callie muses, walking over to her wife's side. She stares at her friend with a smile. "He won't even tell me her name."<p>

"Give us a letter," Arizona suggests as Callie smiles by her side. "Just one."

"Nope."  
>"Oh, come on," Arizona says, clicking her pen and slipping into her lab coat pocket. "One letter isn't much."<p>

"Yeah," Callie adds. "Tell us what—"

"What're you guys talking about over here?" Meredith asks, joining the small group. "Tell me it's better than a bowel resection, because I've done three of those today."

"Our boy Mark here has got himself a girlfriend," Callie tells her before Mark can stop her. "Arizona and I are trying to figure out who she is."

"Girlfriend, huh?" Meredith asks brightly, smiling back at the orthopedic surgeon before turning to the head of plastics. Mark watches the smile freeze on her face, feeling himself turn to stone beneath her hard gaze. "I had no idea you had a girlfriend. Why don't you give us her name and bring us all into the loop, Mark?"

He holds her cold gaze for a few seconds before clearing his throat and stepping away. "You know, I'd love you stand here and chat with you ladies but I have patients to see."

"I'm sure you do," Meredith replies coldly. He stares at her for a second, certain she's going to say something. But before she can say a word, he steps away. He can hear Callie and Arizona complaining about him skipping out, and their voices are muffled as if he's miles away again.

. . .

_Thursday, Week Four:_

_. . ._

_11.30 AM_

_. . ._

"Hey, Jackson," Lexie calls quietly, laying a light hand on his arm as he makes his way from the conference room after the conclusion of their most recent meeting. "Wait a sec." He looks over his shoulder, staring at her expectantly.

"Yeah?"

"I…" She drops her hand, sighing quietly. "I wanted to apologize."

He raises his eyebrows, as if asking for clarification.

"For what you saw," she continues a second later, looking down. "I didn't ask him to come, you know."

"You seemed perfectly happy to see him," Jackson replies stoically. She wonders idyll how hard it is for him to put up this front—if it weren't for episodes like earlier in the week, she might think he didn't care at all.

"Well, I—I was just surprised he was there and—"

"Lexie," Whitney calls, poking her head out the door. "Ben and I are going to stay an hour or two to try and wrap things up…" She trails off, glancing between the couple. "You don't need to stay," she adds, seeing that her client is hesitating by the door.

"No, it's okay, I was just talking—"

"No, she's right." Lexie looks over, surprised to see her husband smiling. "You should go. You have work, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I wanted to talk—"

"We can settle these matters without you two," Whitney chimes in. "They're just details."

"Perfect," Jackson replies before Lexie can speak. "We can both get going then."

Whitney spares him a quick smile before heading back inside. Lexie watches as her husband turns and heads towards the door.

"Jackson," she calls, confused at his quick departure. "Wait, I need to explain—"

"Don't worry about it," he replies automatically, still walking towards the door. "I understand. What's done is done."

"But I—"

"I get it, okay? You wanted to see him because you…" She watches as he swallows and looks away while he utters his next sentence. "You love him." His eyes flicker over to hers, and she watches as he tries to hide his pain with a smile. "Right? And that's…that's a good enough reason to be happy when he shows up, isn't it?"

. . .

_Monday: Week Five_

. . .

"Well," Whitney begins. "I don't want to jinx anything… But I believe we've reached a consensus."

Lexie looks up, feel her heart stop for a second and then pick up at a rapid pace. "What?" She manages to ask.

"Yes," Whitney replies, sparing her a quick glance and the smallest smile. "Ben and I finished up reviewing the documents after the last meeting, and things went surprisingly smoothly. All of the paperwork is ready…" She glances between Lexie and Jackson. "We can meet again Thursday to make things official or—"

"Let's do it now."

All three heads swivel to stare with confusion at Jackson Avery.

"What?" He asks, his eyes skipping from one surprised face to the next. "Let's just get this over with already."

"We can wait," Lexie suggests hesitantly. "We can…"

He shakes his head at her with a shrug. "Why bother? We don't need to dance around it. We both want it done, so let's just get it done already."

"If you're sure…" Whitney says hesitantly, her eyes flicking around the room.

Jackson sighs impatiently, holding his palm out as Lexie watches in disbelieving silence. "Hand me a pen and I'll show you how sure I am."

"…Well, then," Whitney begins a few second later. She glances at Ben, and they both pull out identical stacks of paper, passing them to their respective clients. "We've both looked over the agreements, and they're reasonable and just to both parties…" She sets two pens on the table. "If you're both ready to sign…" She trails off, watching as Jackson takes the pen and signs his name without hesitation besides the various brightly colored tabs interspersed throughout the document. She glances secondly to her own client, surprised to see Lexie hesitate on the last signature. As if feeling the gaze of her attorney, the pediatric surgeon glances up. She meets Whitney's eyes, something half-frightened hiding in hers. The attorney's eyes flicker down to the agreement before returning to her client's face. She bends down, leaning towards the brunette's ear so no one can overhear, "You wanted this, remember?"

She pulls away a second later, and when she looks towards the table, every signature is accounted for and the pen is capped and lying on the table. "Well…" The blonde attorney folds her hands, glancing between Lexie and Jackson. "I don't like to use the word 'congratulations' in these sorts of situations, but… I'm pleased we were all able to come to a fair consensus."

Whitney glances to her fellow attorney who nods, getting to his feet. He glances between them, holding each of their solemn gazes as he speaks. "You two are officially divorced."

. . .

_Author's Note: Phew! Am I the only one that's relieved? Please review; I will try to update this weekend if I can!_

_PS: Have you guys seen the promo for Grey's? I am SO EXCITED for Lexie to be jealous! :D Even if it means Mark's with someone else, they're on the right track. :)_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

_Author's Note: So I was happy (for once!) with this week's Grey's. :) What about you guys? I'm excited for the next episode; it looks like there are a lot of Mark/Lexie scenes and a good bit of J/L suspicions and tension, which I greatly appreciate. I can't wait till those two end it and Mark and Lexie start up again (for what I hope to be the final time)! :)_

_Thank you all so much for reviewing; I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

_. . ._

"What did he say to you?"  
>"What?" Lexie asks, jerking her head up to meet her lawyer's curious gaze. The blonde attorney falls into step beside her client as they head to the elevator.<p>

"When we stepped out," Whitney clarifies, "what did Jackson say to you?"

Lexie sighs, looking down and hitting the call button for the elevator instead of answering. She waits in silence, tapping her foot until the doors open before her. She can tell her lawyer's about to ask the question again, but instead of looking to the blonde woman, she steals a glance over her shoulder as she steps onto the elevator. Jackson—now her ex-husband—

Is still sitting where she left him, but he's speaking with his lawyer now. She feels a bit comforted to know he isn't completely alone, despite the fact that his last words are still ringing harshly in her ears.

. . .

"_Lexie," Jackson calls after her just as she's about to leave. She hesitates by the exit, turning to look over her shoulder at him. "Can I ask you something?"_

_ Her hand hovers on the exit for a moment before dropping. "Yeah?" She asks, letting the door swing shut slowly as she takes a few steps back into the room._

_ "What…" He looks up at her. "What did I do wrong?"_

_ "Oh," Lexie whispers. "Jackson…"_

_ "No, I want to know," he replies calmly. "I really want to know. I…I must've been doing _**something**_ wrong if you've been with…" She watches as his eyes flicker to the side before returning to her face. "…with someone _**else**_ this entire time."_

_ "It's nothing you've done."_

_ "Ah," he chuckles, sitting back in his chair. "The it's-not-you-it's-me routine. Thanks. And here I thought we were having an honest conversation. For once," he adds, and she hears that all-too-familiar angry edge return to his voice._

_ "No, but it's true," Lexie replies quickly. "You're right, you've never done anything wrong. It's never been you who's acted wrong. You've been perfect." She bites her lip. "Just—just not…_**my**___perfect."_

_ "Why, though?" Jackson presses, as if she hadn't spoken. "We were married, Lex. _**Married**_. Didn't that mean something to you? Why didn't you just stop?"_

_ "I…" She bites her lip, staring down at her hands. "I couldn't," she replies quietly. "I'm sorry."_

_ "Not even for a little while?"_

_ Lexie looks up at his tone of voice, finding that his expression matches his quiet words, tinged with an air of defeat. "Not even... Not even just for that first year we were married?" He continues, staring. "Not even twelve months?"_

_ Lexie shakes her head, not knowing how to combat his desperate tone. "I'm sorry," she whispers, repeating her own words. "I couldn't."_

_ "Right," Jackson replies, staring at the ground. It's half a minute until his looks up, and when his eyes meet hers, she recognizes that old hard look in them. "You could have if you tried," he corrects quietly but firmly. "And you didn't try."_

_ "You're right." Lexie takes a deep breath, sinking into an empty chair. "You're right. I didn't try. And I'm sorry."_

_ They sit in silence, staring at their shoes, until Jackson's quiet voice breaks the silence. "Were you lying to me before?" He asks softly._

_ Lexie looks up, but he continues to stare at the ground instead of meeting her eyes. "Lying about what?" She asks after a second._

_ "When you told me you two weren't sleeping together," Jackson clarifies. "Was that true?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Then what…" He looks up, squinting at her in confusion. "What did you do with him?"_

_ "We—"_

_ "Christmas Eve," Jackson states, and she doesn't miss how his voice quavers. "What were you doing with him on Christmas Eve?"_

_ Lexie exhales quietly, closing her eyes._

_ "You were with him that night, weren't you? That's—that's when you decided to leave me, wasn't it?" He concludes. "Christmas Eve?"_

_ "Jackson…"_

_ "What did he say to you?"_

_ "What?"_

_ "What did he say to you that convinced you to leave me?"_

_ "Jackson." His name exits her mouth in a tired sigh. "Can we stop going over this—"_

_ "I just want to know," he whispers, staring across the empty room at her. "I just want to know so… so I don't make the same mistake twice."_

_ Lexie holds his gaze for a moment before exhaling slowly. "Fine," Lexie murmurs softly, looking away from the half-tortured look in his eyes. "He… He told me he loved me and that he deserved better than what I'd given him, and that he—he saw a future for us. He… He wanted us to be more than…what we were."_

_ "And that was it? He just said that and—poof!—you're out of my life and back into his?"_

_ "It wasn't that simple," Lexie warns. "We—"_

_ "So just because he loved you first means he gets to keep you?" Jackson cuts in. "That's it, first come first serve?"_

_ "It wasn't that simple," Lexie repeats, trying to keep her voice even and not let her patience run out. "We—we fought all night and—"_

_ "And then you were ready to leave me by morning? And then you got a lawyer and threw the papers in my face?"_

_ "I didn't—"_

_ "I hope you know," he cuts in, his voice suddenly sharp as his eyes zero in on her with undisguised anger, "that when he breaks your heart again, I won't be standing by the sidelines waiting to put you back together again."_

_ Lexie narrows her eyes at him, her sympathy and guilt from moments ago vanishing at his cold words. "Who said he's going to break my heart?"_

_ Jackson shrugs, and Lexie notices that he makes no attempt to hide a saccharine smile. "It's happened before."_

_ "It's _**not**_ happening again," Lexie bites out._

_ "Yeah," Jackson chuckles, watching with a mocking smile as she gets to her feet and heads to the exit. "You keep telling yourself that and I'm sure it won't."_

. . .

"Lexie?" Whitney prompts finally, as Lexie knew she would. "What did he say to you?"

"He wanted to know what he did wrong," Lexie replies quietly as the elevator begins descending to ground level. "He asked me why I cheated on him with Mark."

In her periphery, Lexie can see her attorney nod. She counts the seconds until the obvious follow-up question is asked.

"Why did you cheat on him with Mark?"

Lexie sighs softly, and when she glances over to meet her lawyer's eyes, Whitney is staring straight ahead. She doesn't turn as the elevator continues to descend to the ground level, so Lexie stares ahead as well as she answers. "Because I love him."

"But you didn't marry him," Whitney points out.

"He never asked."

"Why not? If you two kept this all up for so long… Why didn't he just propose in the first place, if you were with him before you were married?"

"We were broken up when it began," Lexie replies. "And things were…" She sighs. "Complicated, to say the least. We weren't at a point where he could have asked me, nor a point where I would have said yes."

She spots Whitney nodding along in her periphery, and as the elevator _dings, _she leads the way out. "But you're… You're going to live with him, then? You're going back?"

Lexie nods, glancing quickly at her attorney as they walk out into the snowy air. "I am. We lived together before, and he said I could come back if I wanted to."

"Well," Whitney says as they reach the curb. She turns to her client, a smile half-present on her lips, as if she isn't sure that it belongs. "I hope things work out for you."

"Thank you," Lexie replies. "And Whitney, I…" Lexie takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I'm so grateful for how you've helped me."

"It's my job," the blonde woman replies with a polite smile.

"I know that, but… You've really helped me. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

Whitney offers her client a smile. "I was happy to help." She watches as the brunette steps out into the street and raises her arm to signal a cab. "Where are you headed?"

"I'm going home," Lexie replies over her shoulder.

"Home?" Whitney questions in confusion. "But I thought you wanted him to have the house—"

Lexie shakes her head, cutting off the blonde woman she's half-certain she could call a friend. "That isn't my home."

Whitney nods knowingly. "Ah. Seattle, then, I take it?"

Lexie nods briefly. "If you need an address…"

Whitney shakes her head. "We've got all the paperwork done. You're legally divorced." She cracks a smile. "What, do you want a certificate or something?"

Lexie smiles before remembering the one thing that ties her to what is now her past. She glances down at her hands, seeing the thin, gold band wrapped around her finger. She reaches over with her right hand, twisting it slowly and removing it as she meets her attorney's eyes. "What do I do with it?" She asks softly.

Whitney shrugs. "Whatever you want to do. Keep it, sell it, throw it off a bridge." She smiles. "Whatever you want."

"Is he keeping his?" Lexie asks, suddenly intensely curious.

"I don't know. I get the idea that he might, maybe for a few months. Maybe until he moves on."

"You think… You think he'll be able to move on, then?"

Whitney smiles again, flashing her white teeth. "Everyone can move on," she replies automatically. Lexie stares at her, wondering if she'll need to point out the obvious exception. "Well," Whitney adds a second later with an awkward chuckle, "I guess not everyone."

"Right," Lexie replies, giving her a sheepish smile as a cab pulls up in front of her. "Not everyone."

Whitney steps back, waving at the brunette as she opens the cab's door.

"Thank you," Lexie tells her lawyer again, holding the door open. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Whitney replies with a smile. "And Good luck."

Lexie smiles in reply, nodding once before stepping into the cab and shutting the door.

"Can you take me to the airport, please?" She asks the cab driver, settling into her seat as he takes off. She pulls her phone out of her purse, queues up Mark's number, and is about to hit 'send' before she stops herself. She ends the potential call, leaning back against her seat and smiling to herself.

Though he claims to hate them, Lexie's almost positive this will be one surprise he won't regret enduring.

. . .

Mark Sloan doesn't even look up when he hears a key turn in the lock of his front door. Callie's taken to stopping by unannounced and letting herself in whenever she needs to drop off Sofia, and somehow Mark's become used to the invasion of privacy over the years. "Hey, Torres," he calls as he finishes the last few sentences of a paragraph he's reading. "What do you need?"

"I'm not Callie."

Mark's head snaps up at the voice, and he's about to get to his feet when the sight of the woman standing in his doorway causing him to freeze in place.

Lexie manages a small smile as she meets his eyes for the first time since the meeting, reaching up to brush the already falling tears from her face. "It's done," is all she can manage, holding up a bare left hand. "It's over. I—I signed the papers and I—I left my ring in a cab and I got on a plane in Portland and flew here and—Mark, it's official, it's done."

"It's…_official_?" He asks incredulously, standing up and facing the open doorway. Lexie sniffs, wiping her face quickly and nodding. A weak yet obviously happy smile appears on her face a second later.

"It's official," she affirms, finding herself laughing in relief. "I'm not married anymore."

He blinks at her, and not knowing what to say, simply crosses the room quickly and enveloping her in the tightest of hugs. She hugs him back, clutching his body to hers with desperate hands.

"I left him," she chokes out a moment later. "I did it," she whispers in his ear. "I did it for you, for us."

"I know," he replies, increasing the pressure of their hug for a moment before pulling back. He keeps his hands wrapped around her waist as he leans back to look her in the eye. "It's done," Mark whispers in disbelief, breathless at the sight of her. "God," he manages, pulling her body against his again. "I can't believe it," he whispers. "You're finally here, you're finally back."

"I've missed you so much," Lexie cries into his neck, her arms wrapped around his back. "I—I can't live without you, Mark, and I—I can't be apart from you, not anymore. I can't do it anymore."

"You won't have to," he replies. "You'll never have to live without me." She takes a half step forward as his arms pull her closer. "You—you have _no idea_ how much I've missed you," he manages in a broken whisper. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you."

"I love you," Lexie sobs, pulling back. "And I'm—I'm here, I'm yours."

But her words are cut off as his lips crashed into hers, somehow desperate and gentle at the same time as his hands lifted her face to his. She kisses him back, pouring her heart into the gesture, and feels him do the same. He pulls her closer, and she clutches him tighter. Their desperate kiss morphs into something deeper, something more intense—and they lose their breath in seconds. Their lips break apart for oxygen, but their bodies don't move an inch.

"You can't ever leave me," Mark tells her as they're catching their breath. He holds her face firmly between his hands, looking her dead in the eyes as their foreheads touch. His voice is just as serious as his gaze. "Ever. You cannot leave me, not again. Not after this."

"I won't. I'll never leave," Lexie vows, holding his face in her hands and brushing his tears away. "I promise I'll never leave again. You won't ever be without me."

A barely-there smile flashes across his face momentarily, but a second later, it's hidden as he presses his face against her neck and his arms clutch her sides. "I love you," he whispers, his voice cracked and raspy yet filled with confidence in his feelings. "I love you so much."

"I know," Lexie replies, hugging him back with all the strength she possesses. "I love you too."

. . .

_You move like a melody_

_Everything they've got, you've seen_

_**That's why you keep coming back to me, for so long:**_

_**We got to get wrong.**_

_**And that's why you keep holding on to me for so long:**_

_**We got to get wrong.**_

_. . ._

_**We've got more than a lifetime, to make it all feel right**_

_**So don't apologize, we gotta be wrong sometimes.**_

_**We got more than a lifetime, to live inside these lines.**_

_**We were right all along: you gotta be wrong,**_

_**Gotta be wrong sometimes.**_

_**. . .**_

_**Come together and we'll make this right.**_

_**Come together and we'll make it right.**_

_**. . .**_

_Author's Note: I hope you all liked the chapter; please review and leave me your always-welcome thoughts! Happy Halloween, by the way!_

_PS: Along with "Rumor Has It" by Adele, these lyrics from "Gotta Be Wrong Sometimes" by O.A.R. work as perfect themes/foundations for this story._

_Again, please review! They sincerely make my day :)_


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21:**

Author's Note: Woah! 105 reviews? You guys _rock!_ It made me so excited when I saw I broke 100; that's a record! :D

Anyway: First off, did you guys watch tonight's Grey's? I saw some of it, and I am _so,__so,__so,__so,__SO_happy that Avery finally called it off. Honestly, it feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. (Yes, I am very pathetic and M/L are my life… Oh well.) Unfortunately, I think it might take a bit for ML to get back together… Which is okay, I guess… As long as Avery's gone, I'm good. :)

Secondly: I know this chapter is different. …But I thought this would be the best way to tell this certain part of the story. I hope you'll be able to embrace this deviation in style just for this chapter. Again, thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Please keep 'em coming, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

. . .

Mark and Lexie held hands as they walked to the bedroom; their grip was light and easy and their steps quiet and cautious. They undressed each other slowly, carefully, as if this were their first time together and they both wanted things to be perfect. And in a way, it was perfect. Things had somehow risen from disaster to perfection: they were more together now than they had been all their lives.

Upon entering the bedroom, Mark and Lexie stood together at the foot of the bed, and they took turns undressing each other. He removed her jacket, letting it slide slowly down her arms, before placing it over a nearby chair. In return, she unbuckled the belt from his pants, pulling it carefully though each loop until the two were no longer connected. She set it on top of his dresser, one that they would soon be sharing. Lexie then turned back to him, moving forward to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands. She only managed to get through half of the buttons before she had to stop. Without a word, she'd crumbled forward and sunk her face into his chest as a weak cry escaped from her throat. Mark's arms wrapped around her immediately, and he let his shirt soak up her tears and sobs as he held her close.

"It's okay," he whispered in her ear, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a calming manner. "You're here with me. You're home. Everything will be okay. I promise, Lex. It'll all be okay."

Though she barely sniffed in response, he could feel her nodding her understanding against his chest. With that confirmation, he then crushed her body to his, happy to finally be able to hold her without guilt and placate her—for once—with the truth rather than empty words and meaningless promises. And a moment later, she lifted her head to meet his eyes. He was crying too, she saw, but their faces both held smiles. The smiles were shaky, but they were there.

"I will never leave you," she told him, speaking slowly and clearly so he heard each word. She stared into his clear blue eyes as she spoke. "I'll never go anywhere without you."

Mark had stared down at her, stared down at this woman he used to think he had no power over, and was speechless. He knew if he asked her to voice her opinion on who had the power in the relationship, she would say the opposite. She would say he had all the power in the world over her, he just simply chose not to exercise it. He wondered, briefly, how she could be so naïve. He wondered how she could still think like that, even when a simple handful of heartfelt words leaving her mouth left him without a thing to say in return. He watched as she swallowed beneath his calculating gaze, and to calm her, whispered the one thing he'd wanted to say to her everyday since she'd said 'yes' to him on Christmas Eve.

"Thank you."

He spoke softly to her before reaching out, drawing her close, and holding her tight to him. Her arms had moved to return the gesture, her hands skimming over his backside as they buried their heads into each other necks and didn't move.

They stood like that for over at least an hour, sometimes crying, sometimes whispering to one another, sometimes just relishing in the silence and the comforting feel of being permanently at home within the other's embrace. And somehow, without communicating, they pulled apart at the same moment, each reaching for the other though they were separating. Mark's hand found her cheek and Lexie's rested on his chest, just above the still half-undone buttons of his shirt.

"Let's go to bed."

Neither was sure who spoke first, but they voiced the same words. They didn't part to go to opposite sides of the bed, instead they simply began at the central foot and worked their way to the headboard. Once there, they had kissed quietly for a few minutes, their lips moving slowly through long-practiced tandem dances. Though Lexie managed to unbutton and unzip his jeans during that time and Mark had slipped her blouse over her head, their kisses were not heating in intensity and their hands were not roaming over the other. They were both spent already, and they had no strength left to continue.

After a few seconds, their kisses deteriorated until they finally broke apart. Lexie had waited a moment, but he didn't push her as she thought he would. Mark had paused, but her lips didn't seek his out like he'd expected. They each waited a full minute for the other, but his hands didn't move to slide overtop her curves nor did her hands move to tug his body closer. So they simply broke apart, lying beside each other with no moves to make and no words to say. Though they each felt it was expected, there really was no reason to further things between them, not now, at least. Not tonight.

They both pulled away at almost the same time, their sheepish gazes meeting one another's. Lexie had shrugged lightly, not knowing what to say. Mark had given her a small smile before leaning forward and kissing her slowly, softly; it was a gesture devoid—for once—of any intention or innuendo. He just wanted to be near to her, and, understanding that, Lexie had moved her body closer. Feeling the same way, she had pressed her partly bare torso against his and returned the gentle kiss.

After a long minute, Mark had pulled away—but not before bestowing a few brief, sweet kisses on her lips—and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. Lexie had smiled at his blank face, scooting forward and touching her forehead to his.

"I love you," she whispered as her lips hovered near his. "You know that, right?" In response, he's reached out, placed a hand on her lower back, and pulled her even closer.

"Of course I do," he muttered in reply. His slightly insulted tone caused her small smile to widen. "I love you, too, baby," he murmured quietly a second later, his voice much softer as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck. He rested his head against her and breathed her in as her hands held him close and her body curled towards his. They lied in silence for a short while; the only sounds that could be heard were their quiet and even breathing.

When she couldn't stay silent any longer, Lexie spoken softly into his ear. "I'm happy to be home," she whispered. She waited for him to reply, but when he didn't, she glanced down, angling her head to get a good look at his face. She stared at him in silence, feeling an involuntary smile spread over her face in seconds at what she saw. His face was blank, tranquil, and his expression was clear of all aggravation and worry... And she was unable to stop smiling at what she saw, nor stop staring straight ahead, as she watched him fall deeper asleep. Lexie Grey had never seen Mark Sloan look more peaceful than he did the night she came home to him forever.

. . .

On their first night legally free from guilt, with nothing more than a kiss and a few inches of exposed skin shared between them, Mark and Lexie slept together. They held each other close, falling asleep and waking up in the same place: home. Within each other's arms, Mark and Lexie had finally found the one place they'd been searching for, during all the years they'd spent apart. They finally found their home.

. . .

In the morning, Mark and Lexie opened their eyes to each other and it was as if they had been blind the night before and everyday in the past. It was as if they had gone without the touch of the other for a lifetime and were now starving for it. Their lips crashed together without thought or pause as they shifted towards one another in the still-dark morning. Their skin seemed to morph into one body, their bones joining and their blood transfusing as it boiled, hungry and hot, to the surface.

Within seconds of waking and then coming to their respective senses, Mark and Lexie's eyes met. They locked together for a brief moment—just one second or two—and then they sprung towards each other. Mark yanked her body against his without hesitation and Lexie had moaned into his mouth, feeling her body heat and melt against his as their skin pressed together. As he kissed her, her hands had wrapped around his neck, desperate to have him as close as possible.

When Mark and Lexie had time to catch their breath, they made fun of the other for wasting their first night together as a real couple by sleeping. Between all-consuming kisses and seductively wandering hands, they argued good-naturedly over who fell asleep first or who had worse performance anxiety as they continued to undress each other. Their hands were hurried and imprecise, and their frustration at their lack of precision only made it all the more entertaining.

At one point, Lexie had cursed loud enough to wake the neighbors, yelling that their clothes had been tailor-made to avoid removal. In response, Mark had taken her hands in his, holding them tight as he looked her in the eyes, and told her very seriously to _calm down_. Lexie had stared at him for a quiet second, her eyes wide at his interruption, before yanking her hands out of his grasp, launching herself towards him, and telling him as she tackled him that she'd been waiting too long to slow down now.

Mark simply laughed, teasing her that it looked like she'd lost her touch and, if that was the case, he'd have to wear button-down shirts more often. "You know, to practice on," he had grinned. Lexie accused him of getting too old and consequently becoming uninterested in sex and falling asleep too early. "We'll enroll you in a bridge club this afternoon," she'd smirked. He, of course, responded by flipping them over, pinning her beneath him, and asking her to please repeat her complaint, all the while pressing evidence to the contrary of her words against her lower body. Lexie grinned up at him, ripped through the remaining buttons of his shirt, and asked if he had other clothes he thought belonged in the trash.

Mark shook his head with a smile, took her face in his hands gently, and told her she could destroy as many shirts as she pleased. Lexie leaned up, kissed him lovingly, shrugged, and told him that if he ever became uninterested in sex, she'd understand. People aged. He then ground his pelvis against hers, relishing in the moaning of his name the action elicited from her before getting up and walking away without a backward glance. Lexie's eyes shot open a split-second later, and as she stared after him as he walked to the door, she demanded what in the world he thought he was doing. Mark shrugged, replying that he thought she said she didn't care if he didn't want sex. Lexie jumped to her feet, yanked her jeans off form where they were bunched up around her knees, and tore off her shirt.

"Do you want sex now?" She'd shouted, standing before him in just a bra and panties. Mark had stared at her wide-eyed, his mouth hanging slightly open. Lexie had sighed sadly, getting down from the mattress and walking past him to the direction of the bathroom. "Oh, well," she lamented as she passed him. "You aren't interested. Too bad." Mark had grabbed her arm as she walked by, turning her towards him and pulling her body flush against his for a hungry kiss.

"I'm always interested," he had replied before hoisting her into his arms and pressing her bare body against the doorframe.

"I see nothing's changed," Lexie had observed between breathless kisses as they headed back towards the bed. "You don't like being teased."

"After all this time?" Mark had asked with a carefree smirk. "Now, who in their right mind would want anymore teasing?" Lexie had bit her lip, smiling in response as he set her gently on the bed before covering her body with his. He pressed her into the mattress with the weight of his body, and even then, when he was almost as close as humanly possible, Lexie drew him still nearer. Her hands sought his, her fingers gripping his and squeezing so hard she was half-worried she'd break them. A moment later, he adjusted their grip, letting their knuckles link together and intertwine just seconds before he moved within her. Lexie's eyes were wide and full of love as she stared up at him. Not wanting to blink lest he disappear, Lexie's eyes had watered and Mark had leaned down to kiss away her tears. He reached up, bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing their knuckles softly as he looked into her eyes.

"Nothing will ever change between us, I promise you that."

. . .

And so they made love together for the first time since she was officially divorced, both fast and slow, both jokingly and lovingly, because neither could decide which was better. In the end, as it turned out, a mixture was best. That first early morning replaced all the other late nights. Their laughter and jokes replaced all the tears and the yelling, each soft touch replaced every shove or shout.

They began anew, something Lexie never thought would be possible with him and something Mark thought he would never get a chance to experience with her. And though she struggled to keep her eyes open, to see him before her at all times, there were times when Lexie simply had to give into the pure pleasure and happiness that he was helping her to achieve. There were moments when she simply had to let go, moments when she had to trust that he would be there again when she opened her eyes.

And he was.

During that long and lazy morning, Lexie made herself let go—for once—of all control. She forced herself to stop looking over her shoulder and simply made herself close her eyes and let him love her without restraint, guilt, worry, or regret. He did the same, she knew, because she could feel it in the different way he touched her. His hands were slow and deliberate; they didn't shake and they never hesitated. He knew, just as well as she did, that things were changing between them... And for once, things were changing for the better.

. . .

Lexie wasn't sure if he was trying harder to make this first experience between them more memorable or if it was simply happening of its own accord. Though the motions they were going through were nothing short of common, somehow everything between them was taken to the next level. Every touch sparked more fires, every kiss elevated the temperature between them, and each time their bodies connected, it was like waves crashing again and again over their minds. Each time they brought each other together, every movement erased a minute, a day, a month, a year of hurt. Each time they whispered each other's name, each time they voiced their love for the other, seemed more tender and truthful than the last.

. . .

When she said she'd never leave, he was finally able to believe her without any reserves. When he told her he had never loved anyone else, she was able to look in his eyes and smile instead of having to struggle to hold back tears at the unfairness of it all. She could reply that he was the only person she'd ever loved, too, and she no longer felt guilty voicing those honest words.

When she turned to the bedside table during the night, he knew she was simply turning off the light, not grasping for a wedding ring to slip back on before she left. When he woke alone, he was no longer gripped with a sudden panic that she was back to her real life and everything that had happened between them was barely more than a dream. His heart no longer broke each time she headed for the front door, and it no longer took her hours to build up the courage to step in and out of his front door.

And as she walked to and from his apartment, Lexie finally felt free again. She no longer looked over her shoulder as she left Mark's place. She no longer kept a watchful eye for wandering eyes; she no longer felt the guilt hanging over her like a crushing fog whenever she crossed his doorstep. There was simply happiness and contentment, and Lexie was clueless as to how she'd ever given up on feeling this way all those years ago in the first place.

. . .

And somehow, in the weeks that followed, Mark and Lexie were transported back to the days when they had lived together—but it was all new now. It was all being rediscovered. She'd steal the covers during the night and then complain that it was too hot. He'd leave clothes or dirty dishes lying around and then accuse her of being messy. They didn't yell, scream, or fight—not at each other and not anymore, not after everything that had happened—but they did still manage to weasel fantastic makeup sex out of trivial disagreements.

They didn't hang out at Joe's anymore either, but they found other ways to entertain themselves without continuous tequila shots, endless glasses of scotch, or friends. They had date nights and movie nights and nights when one of them experimented in the kitchen. They had nights where they didn't want to speak to one another, but they never slept apart, and by morning, the disagreement had either been resolved or didn't matter anymore.

They didn't see each other at work as much, and they never made love in an on-call room again—not together, nor with anyone else. They had tried once, but after Mark jokingly told her that they had to be quiet in case someone heard and saw them together, he had ended up spending the rest of their lunch break trying to convince her that he hadn't meant it that way.

They'd left the on-call room shortly thereafter, and before going their separate ways, Mark had grabbed her hand and whispered, "I'm sorry" as he looked across the empty space between them and met her brown eyes. He had stepped forward then, and holding her gaze, he told her that he didn't want to sneak around anymore, either. And then he'd kissed her, very softly and very publicly, before heading back to his patients. She had watched him go for a few seconds before turning and heading back to her own charges. She noticed people were staring—they always stared—but she didn't care this time. Let them assume what they will: that she and Mark were nothing more than sex, and that they'd spent the last hour wrapped together in arousal and ecstasy. Let people think what they will. If they don't want to accept the truth standing in plain sight right before them, she reasoned, then that's their problem.

Lexie had apologized later that night for making too much of it, and Mark wasn't sure if she was extra vocal in the bedroom to prove a point or simply because it had been a few weeks. Still, Mark never eluded to secret love or forbidden rendezvous when speaking with her and he never tried to entice her into deserted areas for hidden trysts again. The time for amusing actions like these was in the past—back when she was an intern, he was an attending, and all 'forbidden' meant was that Derek didn't approve—and after a few days, neither of them really cared anymore. What they had now was so much better, so much more worthwhile, because it had taken so long to achieve.

. . .

Overall, neither Mark nor Lexie assumed that life would be hard after she came home to Seattle. They simply thought things would work out in the end, seeing as they had already been through so much together. Well, that was true. For them.

As for everyone else, it seemed like the entire hospital was holding it's breath—possibly waiting for rumors to surface of Mark sleeping with a nurses or proof to back the idea that Lexie was still secretly seeing Jackson. None of the stories became reality, of course, and so neither Mark nor Lexie paid them any attention. Rumors were for people who had boring lives and wanted to make them interesting. Rumors were for people who wanted meaningless excitement injected into their day-to-day lives.

But Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey didn't need rumors. They were perfectly happy to lead the most boring lives imaginable, as long as they led them together.

. . .

Author's Note: So what'd you think? I know this chapter might've been odd to read because of the strange style, but I thought it was the best way to write this specific part. If you didn't like it, don't worry, since the next chapters will all be back to normal, probably picking up the morning after Lexie came home.

Please review, you guys. I absolutely _love_hearing what you guys think of the story (and the show, on the rare occasion that it goes well—like tonight!) so please don't hesitate to tell me. Thank you all for reading :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:**

_. . ._

_9 AM_

_. . ._

"So…" Mark begins off-handedly, looking at the woman lying in his arms with a smile. "You thought _surprising_ me would be a good idea, did you?"

Lexie glances up at him, beaming. "I thought I'd be dramatic," she replies with a smile, threading her fingers though his as his arms lie wrapped around her. "And come on," she says as she tilts her head up to meet his eyes. "You can't really say that you didn't enjoy me showing up out of the blue, now, can you?"

He grins, bending forward to kiss her lips softly. "Oh, I definitely enjoyed it. In fact, it'll probably go down in history as the _only_ surprise I've ever thoroughly enjoyed."

Lexie smiles into the kiss, chuckling when she sees him close his eyes as he pulls away.

"What?" He asks, opening his eyes to look at her.

She shakes her head with a smile. "Nothing, nothing."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on."

"Fine," she waves a hand. "I'm just warning you right now that you won't be happy with what I have to say."

Mark raises an eyebrow in amusement, being able to tell from her carefree tone that what she's about to divulge to him is nothing serious.

"You fell asleep first last night," Lexie states.

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"No."

"Yes."

"Nope."

"I saw it," she grins. "I saw it with my own eyes, you fell asleep first." Lexie laughs, letting her head fall back against his chest in outright amusement. "You didn't want to have sex with me, did you?"

Mark rolls his eyes, scoffing. "After what happened this morning, are you really trying to tell yourself that I don't want to sleep with you, Little Grey?"

"I'm saying you were nervous," Lexie grins.

"I was not nervous," Mark replies. "I was _tired_."

"Sure," Lexie allows. "Sure, let's go with that."

"Don't mock me."

Lexie smiles sweetly. "Who said I was mocking anyone?"

"Your face gave it all away, trust me."

She laughs silently, turning her head towards him. "Oh, how will I _ever_ make it up to you?" She asks with over-the-top concern.

Mark grins, reaching forward to draw her close for a kiss. "I can think of a few ways," he murmurs against her smiling lips. She kisses him back, twisting within his arms to bring them face-to-face.

"Please tell me you don't have to go into work today," Lexie whispers against his lips before pulling away to look in his eyes.

"I don't have to go into work today," Mark replies, leaning forward to kiss her in reassurance.

Lexie sighs slowly as they part, and her body slumps with the gesture. "You have surgery, don't you?"

Mark shrugs. "Not anything that can't be rescheduled."

"Mark…"

"I'll take a vacation day," he replies, leaning forward to kiss her. "Or two," he adds when he feels her respond to the kiss a second later.

"I think you should take three," Lexie suggests, placing a hand on the back of his neck to gain more leverage as she deepens the kiss.

"Three sounds good," Mark agrees as turns more fully towards him. "Or maybe I should take four," he murmurs as her legs wrap around him a second later and she pulls her shirt over her head.

"I say five," Lexie decrees in a breathy whisper as she settles herself firmly in his lap, leaning forward to kiss him again as her hands wrap around his neck.

"Five then," he murmurs in quiet agreement, slipping his hands into her dark hair and brushing his lips against hers.

"I knew I could get you to take off a whole week just for this," Lexie whispers triumphantly into the kiss. Mark's lips turn up in a smile, but instead of replying, he simply pulls her closer and deepens the kiss.

. . .

"I don't ever want to leave this bed," Lexie whispers as they fall from their peaks an hour later. Mark grins over at her, guiding her face towards his for a swift kiss.

"Good news, then," he replies, lying back against the pillows. "You don't have to."

Lexie smiles back for a few seconds before the carefree expression falls off her face. "I'll… I'll have to go back," she whispers a minute or two later. She reaches over, running her fingers through his hair a couple times before holding his cheek in her hair. "You know that, right? I'll have to go back to get all my things, sort out my practice."

Mark nods, pressing his face into her touch and turning his head to kiss her palm lightly. "I know," he replies after a moment.

"Are you okay with that?" She asks softly, staring into his eyes.

"It's fine." He shrugs as if he doesn't care, but when he looks away, Lexie can tell that he's more than bothered by the idea. But when he looks back over a moment later, his carefree demeanor from just minutes ago is back. "Besides," he murmurs, drawing their sweat-slicked bodies close again. "You're here now."

Lexie smiles up at him, kissing him briefly. "I want to be here forever," she replies.

"You will be. Just come back."

She looks up, catching his eyes with a smile. "Is that an order?" She questions with raised eyebrows.

He cracks a smile, ducking down to kiss her again before resuming his spot beside her on the bed. "Maybe."

Lexie smiles, pleased he wasn't too unhappy with the reality of their situation. She leans over, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. A second later, he wraps an arm around her, appraising her with a loving eye, and moves onto a lighter topic.

"What about work, then?"

"I gave my notice after the first meeting with Jackson," Lexie replies. "I told the Jenner—my Chief at OHSU—that I didn't know when I'd be leaving, but that it would be at least a month before I had to go. She gave me time to get all my patients in order…" Lexie looks down, her eyes studying the striped pattern on the sheets beneath them absentmindedly. "They'll probably be moved to a new surgeon later this week, after I call and give the okay."

"You sound sad about that," Mark notes quietly.

Lexie takes a breath, letting it out in a long sigh as she looks over his shoulder. "I am. They're—they're my kids, you know?" She returns her focus, catching his inquisitive gaze with a weak smile. "I feel horrible leaving them behind."

"You're their surgeon," Mark replies. "You aren't their full-time caregiver, you aren't their parent. You aren't leaving any of your patients behind."

Lexie smiles, looking down and shaking her head at his words.

"What?"

"You… You haven't worked on a peds case in a while, have you?" She asks slowly, scooting forward on the bed. Mark shrugs in response, and his expression tells her that he doesn't see the importance of the question.

"Well, you've probably heard this crap from Arizona plenty of times, but… Peds isn't just surgery. You can't just open up these kids like you can an adult. You have to take care of these kids, make them feel safe and loved."

"That's what parents are for," Mark points out.

"Yes, but usually the parents are too screwed up over what's happening to their child that they aren't much support. And even when the parents _are _supportive, it helps for the kids to see you—their surgeon—as not just another adult or a scary doctor. You have to be someone who's on their side, someone who's their friend, someone who will take care of them and—most importantly—someone who has _their _best interests at heart."

"Seems like you take these kids pretty seriously," he murmurs, staring at her. "Almost like they're yours," he adds quietly.

Lexie stares back, unsure of what to say while holding his concentrated blue gaze. A moment later, she manages to reply. "I do," she says quietly. "I do take them seriously."

"That's good," Mark replies, his voice just as quiet. Lexie nods, resting her head back on the pillow and closing her eyes. Silence falls between the couple for a few minutes. But the silence isn't awkward. It's comfortable, and oddly familiar after all the time they've spent with one another. Every few seconds, Lexie opens her mouth to speak. But just before she brings her vocal cords into the equation, whatever she was about to say is rendered unnecessary. Instead, she just takes a breath, shifts towards him, and lays her head on his chest. This isn't a silence that needs to be broken.

She closes her eyes as she rests her ear against his heart, and she kisses his skin gently when she feels his right arm drape over her body. The silence between them stretches on, becoming more pleasant and relaxed with each passing second. Mark can hear as well as feel her even breathing, and as the minutes pass, he wonders if she's fallen asleep. His lips twitch upward at the thought, knowing he'll be able to lord it over her later. He lifts his right hand from her side, moving it to stroke her hair gently. He continues doing so for upwards of five minutes, during which time he lets his eyes fall closed. He doesn't slip into unconsciousness immediately as he admittedly had last night—in fact, he doesn't fall asleep at all. He just lies in bed with the love of his life, holds her close as she holds him, and tries to convince himself that what's between them isn't temporary—it's forever.

_. . ._

"This is so nice," he hears her murmur after what must have been a couple hours of deep slumber on her part. Mark's resting eyes blink open slowly, and he glances down at her, curious.

"What's nice?" He asks softly, keeping his voice quiet with the intent of lulling her back to sleep.

"This," she replies, placing her hand on his stomach. She lifts her head a moment later to stare at him and bring herself away from the brink of unconsciousness. "Waking up to you." A lazy smile stretches over her face. "It is just so nice to wake up to you. _You_," she empathizes as the smile stretches to brighten her dark eyes, "after all this time. _You, _after all these years."

Mark's returning smile is instantaneous. "It's nice to wake up to you, too," he murmurs, bending forward to kiss her softly.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to it," she whispers as their lips move together gently and slowly. When they break apart, his face remains just centimeters from hers.

"I think you'll get used to is," he informs her, letting their noses touch. "Seeing as I hope to do it every day for the rest of my life."

"Rest of your life?" Lexie repeats.

"Yes." Mark nods seriously, causing his forehead to brush hers, as he looks into her eyes. "For as long as I live, Lex, I want to wake up to you beside me each morning."

She smiles at him, tipping her chin forward to kiss him gently. Lexie pulls back after a few seconds, shaking her head.

"What?" He asks, trying to catch her eye.

"Nothing," Lexie replies with a smile. "It's just…" She sighs quietly, looking up and meeting his concentrated gaze. "You say something like that, something so simple, something that so many people get to experience every single day—something I'm sure most of them think nothing of—and I… I'm speechless. I don't know what to say, I don't know how to reply…" She reaches forward, caressing his cheek at her loss of words. He can see her need to have him understand so clearly in her dark brown eyes, but he'll let her try to explain first. "Because I… I justdon't have the words to express what you mean to me. I don't know how to tell you how much I love you, to make you understand how much I need you. I feel like… I feel like those three words aren't enough, no matter how many times I say them or how deeply I feel them."

"They're enough," he assures her quietly. "And even if they weren't, I know now—_today_—more than I ever have… I know that you love me. You've shown me with your words, you've shown me with your actions… Lex, I know that you'll be with me, every day and every night. You don't need to prove it to me. It's just a fact, and I—" He breaks off with a smile. "I have to admit, it's a fact that I'm still trying to accept as a reality."

"I'm just that good, huh?" Lexie smiles. He kisses her softly, and she's comforted by the fact that it's clear that she isn't alone in this battle to redefine reality they've found themselves weaving together. They've fought this fight many times in the past—sometimes together, sometimes apart—but the difference in time is that their reality is something that not only both of them canaccept, but it's also something both of them _want _to accept. Their reality finally lines up with the fantasies they've kept secret for so many years, and their both more than eager to begin accepting it.

. . .

It's many hours later that Lexie finally manages to broach the subject that had been lurking in the back of her mind since it was mentioned earlier in the morning. Dusk falls outside their apartment as she wrestles with the best way to introduce the conversation. Eventually, after many silent minutes of thought, she just speaks her mind.

"I'll have to go back for my things," she tells him quietly as she stands in the middle of their kitchen. Lexie watches as Mark drops her gaze, looking at the counter that he's sitting in front of instead of her.

"I'll come back home," she assures him softly, taking a step forward even though the island separates them.

"I know," he replies quietly, finally looking up to meet her gaze.

"I will come back," she says firmly, walking around the counter to face him. "I will come straight home."

"I know that," he replies. He closes his eyes a second later, ducking his head down. "I know that," he repeats. "I know you'll be back, I know you won't leave, but—"

"But until this is permanent you have your doubts," Lexie adds, watching as he opens his eyes and nods stiffly. She sighs sadly, but steps forward and threads her fingers through his. "I understand that," she manages to reply truthfully after a moment. "And that's…that's why I want you to come with me."

Mark's gaze snaps up, and he stares at her, trying to determine if he'd heard her correctly. After a few seconds, he clears his throat, never letting his gaze waver from her eyes. "I'm… sorry," he beings, getting to his feet, "but did you just say you wanted me to come _with _you? To Portland? To your _house_?"

"It isn't my house anymore," she points out, as if the detail was relevant.

"Lexie." Mark sighs, closing his eyes. He takes a breath, dropping her hand and reaching up to rub his forehead. "Look, I love the gesture here, but I really don't think it's a good idea—"

"It isn't a gesture," Lexie cuts in seriously. "It's what I want—I want you to come with me. I need you there."

"Lex, how will this look to him? Think about that for a second. Think about what kind of message—"

"He doesn't have to see anything," Lexie replies. "And I'm not sending a message. I can call OHSU and see when his shift starts. We can go then."

"This isn't a good idea," Mark mutters, walking a few paces away and shaking his head. "You saw what happened last time we ran into each other—"

"Yes, and that was because you provoked him," Lexie points out. Mark looks back over at her, and from the set of his jaw, she can tell he's on the verge of deciding if he's in or out. "You have to come," Lexie implores him. She moves towards him and looks up into his worried blue eyes. "I told you I'd never go anywhere without you," she whispers softly. "I promised you that last night; you want me to break that promise already?"

Mark sighs heavily, looking away. She watches as he shakes his head back and forth, and holds her breath.

"Mark, I can't do this alone," she whispers, placing her hand on his forearm. "I need you there, okay, and—"

"Fine," he mutters, looking to the floor.

"Fine?" Lexie repeats, her voice rising with hope.

He exhales sharply, turning to look at her. He glances down at her hand on his arm, twisting his wrist slightly to enclose her hand within his. "I'll come with you."

"Thank you," Lexie whispers in relief, squeezing his hand and giving him a small smile. "Thank you."

"When can we go?" Mark asks reluctantly.

"Tomorrow," Lexie replies. "We can leave in the late afternoon—he usually has surgery then—and I'll call before we go to make sure he won't be at the house."

Mark nods, but doesn't reply. She stares at him in silence for a moment before tugging his hand. "Come on," she murmurs once she's got his attention. "Let's got to bed."

Mark sighs softly, closing his eyes for a moment before following after her. As much as he doesn't want to be involved at this process at all, he tries to see this unwelcome trip as a blessing in disguise. _Maybe things will go quicker if she isn't moving everything out of her house on her own,_ he reasons. _Maybe we'll just be in and out, and then we can come home._

. . .

_The following morning…_

. . .

A shrill ringing wakens both Mark and Lexie early the next morning. They both groan as the noise wakes them up—each had been content to sleep late into the day. The caller, obviously, had other plans.

"Who the heck is calling you at five AM?" Lexie complains, rolling away from the noise in bed.

"No idea," Mark grunts, reaching towards the nightstand for the phone stationed there. "Hello?" He mutters groggily into the phone.

"I know you've got a day off," Richard begins without preamble, "but we need you here, Sloan."

"What?" He yawns, sitting up in bed. "What is—"

"A trucker fell asleep at the wheel and caused some major casualties on the highway. We've got at least six burn vics—"

"Damn it," Mark mutters, already jolted wide-awake as he calculates the potential number of hours he'll be in the OR today.

"If you're taking off because you're sick—"

"No," he replies. "No, I'm fine, I'll come in."

"Thank you," Richard replies emphatically. "If you—"

"If I ever need a favor, I'll bring up that time you called me up at five AM for six back-to-back surgeries on my day off," Mark finishes for the Chief, already on his feet and walking towards the dresser. "Yeah, I got it."

"Thanks again," Richard replies before hanging up. Mark sets down the phone, pulling open his middle dresser drawer and slipping on a shirt quickly.

"Emergency?" Lexie guesses form the bed. Mark glances over his shoulder, and suddenly remembering their plans for the day, sighing heavily.

"Yeah," he replies, staring unhappily at her.

"I guess I'm on my own then," she whispers.

Mark stares at her, his chest rising and falling with a sad breath. "I'm sorry, Lex. I know you wanted me to—"

"It's okay," she interrupts softly, getting to her feet as well. "This—this is something I should do on my own, anyway, I guess. Dragging you into it was unnecessary."

He smiles slightly, stepping towards her as she rounds the bed. "See?" He asks, stopping before her and squeezing her hand. "I've been saying that all along."

"Oh, yes," Lexie smiles. "When will I ever figure out that you're _always _right?"

Mark grins, kissing her quickly before turning to the dresser and hurriedly pulling on pants, a pair of socks, and shoes to run out to the hospital. "I'm sorry about this, though, Lex. I know how important it was to you that I be there…" He trails off, turning around to face her.

"It's okay," she replies truthfully. "This is more important anyway. I'll talk to you when I get home."

"Okay," he replies, kissing her briefly again and squeezing her arm lightly before heading to the front door.

"Good luck on your surgeries!" She calls as he opens the door.

"Good luck in Portland," he replies, giving her half smile before closing the door behind him. As soon as he's gone, Lexie lets out a long sigh. She's got an entire morning to kill before her flight, and with Mark gone, no one to spend it with. She debates visiting Meredith and Derek, but remembering the way Mark had run off to the hospital, she guesses they'd be right there with him. So instead she goes back to bed, pretends it isn't empty, and falls back asleep.

. . .

_12 PM_

. . .

"Hey, Mark?"

Mark Sloan looks up from his lunch mid-bite to see Callie Torres standing in front of him. He stares at her for a moment, confused at the hard line her mouth is making. "Yeah?" He asks after a moment.

"Do you have plans tonight?" She asks, putting her hands on the back of the seat opposite him.

"I…" Mark pauses, wishing he could say he did. He taps his phone surreptitiously, but the screen remains the same: no messages, no calls. _Who knows how long it'll take Lexie to get all of her stuff home? _Mark thinks. _Maybe it'll be better to stay distracted at Callie's, _he reasons. "No," he replies after a moment. "Why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner at our house? Sofia hasn't seen you in a while and—"

"Sure," Mark replies with a smile at the mention of his daughter. "I'd love to."

"Great," Callie replies. "So can you come around five?"

"I'll see you then."

. . .

_3 PM_

. . .

Lexie Grey slips her key into the lock of her old house slowly. Even though she called the hospital twice to check that Jackson was in surgery, she's still half-expecting to run into him at any moment. She breathes a sigh of relief when she steps into the house to find it completely empty. She finds herself smiling for a moment—she was sure this trip would be difficult, especially without Mark—but it had turned out even easier than she imagined. All she needed to do was pack things up, put the boxes in her car that was thankfully parked in the driveway, and ride home to Seattle.

But then the moment passes.

She looks around in confusion, wondering why the description 'empty' had seemed so fitting when she'd thought of it before. It was because the house was jus that—empty. Minus the furniture she remembered purchasing herself, Lexie cannot pick out one item that she herself had bought. She walks through each room, and even looks in the yard and the garage. But there's nothing that belong to her in any room. To make matters worse, there are no boxes or bags of her things.

They're just gone.

. . .

Mark's just about the turn on the faucet to scrub in when he feels his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He closes his eyes for a second, holding back an impatient sigh, and pulls it out quickly. If it was anyone else, he'd ignore it. If it was any other day, he'd ignore it. But she hasn't called all day, and she's up in Portland alone. The least he could do is answer the phone when she calls.

"I'm just between surgeries, Lex," he begins quickly. "So I can't talk that much—"

"My stuff is gone," Lexie cuts in.

"What?" He asks. He's unable to discern if she sounds more hurt or angry.

"My stuff," Lexie manages. "My—My stuff—my—my clothes, books, everything, any—anything I've ever bought, it's all—" She breaks off, and Mark closes his eyes, lifting a hand to his brow. "It's all gone," she whispers.

"Lexie," he murmurs.

"What the hell did he do with it all?" She snaps angrily, her temper as quick to flash like a match being lit.

"He probably—"

"I'm sorry," Lexie interrupts quietly. "Never mind. Go to your surgery. I'll deal with this."

"Okay," Mark replies reluctantly. "But Lex, if you need me—"

"I'll call," she promises.

"Okay. I'll talk to you when I get out of surgery."

"Bye."

. . .

Lexie has to redial his number almost three times because her hands are shaking so angrily. He picks up immediately, and she doesn't wait for him to greet her before she speaks. "Where the hell are my things, Jackson?" She spits into the receiver, looking around at the half-empty house.

"Oh," he replies, drawing out the word. She taps her foot in impatience, and she wonders if he realizes how annoying his habit of holding back information is. "So _now_ you'll talk to me. When you want something, you'll talk to me."

"What?"

"I called you three times," Jackson informs her. "Where have you been?"

"I've been—"

"Whatever," he cuts in coldly. "I don't care. I don't need to speak to you anymore."

"Where are my things?" Lexie asks sharply. "What did you do with them?"

"Oh, what, do you think I threw them in a landfill or something?" The annoyance evident in his tone makes Lexie all the more confused. _If he didn't throw them out and they aren't at the house, then where is all of my stuff? _Lexie wonders. "We're divorced, Lex, but do you really think that means I'm going to trash all your things?"

"Well… Where are they, then?" She asks, calmer this time.

"I shipped them to Meredith's," he relies stiffly. "Seeing as that's where you'll be staying, that's okay, isn't it?"

"You—you sent everything?" Lexie asks, her voice faltering, and too preoccupied by his actions to take note of his other remark, which was no doubt meant to needle her. "All of it?"

"I didn't send the car, if that's what you want."

"No, I just—why?"

"Why what?"

"Well, you—you didn't need to do that. You didn't need to pack or send everything… I mean, I flew up here to get my things, you didn't—"

"I wanted it all out of the house," Jackson interrupts coldly.

Lexie swallows, and despite having severed almost all ties with him, the frigidity of her ex-husband's tone makes her take pause. It's a few seconds before she can speak, and even then, her voice is subdued. "Okay. Well, I—I guess I owe you a thank-you."

Jackson makes a non-committal noise on the other end of the line.

"I… I guess I'll take my car and go, then."

"Fantastic. You can leave your key in the mailbox and be gone, then."

Lexie sighs softly. She knows she shouldn't expect anything (even vaguely) resembling warmth from him, but after receiving nothing less than that these past eight years, his coldness still has the ability to shock her. His total indifference makes her wish she had something comforting to say. A few seconds later, though, when she finally settles on something to say, she realizes the line has gone dead. She hits the button to end the call, muttering the words to herself anyway.

"Bye, Jackson."

She takes one last look around the house before opening the front door and locking it behind her. She takes a moment to twist the key off her key ring and drop it in the mailbox before heading out to her car. She doesn't look back as she heads towards the Washington border.

. . .

_5 PM._

. . .

"You better have made something good, Cal," Mark says as she opens the door for him. "Because I was in surgery all day and I'm absolutely _starving_."

Callie doesn't reply, she closes the door behind him and stands with her arms crossed. Mark steps inside, looking around the surprisingly darkened house.

"Where is everyone?" He asks, glancing to his best friend. "Is Sofia—"

"She's with Arizona," Callie replies automatically. "Mark, I didn't ask you here for dinner, I asked you here to talk."

"She's with Arizona?" Mark repeats. "Is—Is she okay? What happened? Is she—"

"Nothing," Callie cuts in. "Nothing happened. She's fine."

"Well, then why isn't she—"

"I asked Arizona to take her to work for a couple hours."

"And why did you do that? You know I haven't seen her—"

"Because I wanted to talk to you, and what I want to say is nothing near what Sofia should be hearing."

Mark eyes his best friend, chuckling awkwardly. "Okay, Cal. I don't really know where you're going with this, but…"

"Mark," Callie begins, "who were you checking your phone for when I asked you if I had plans tonight?"

"I…" He trails off, the ghost of a smile turning up his lips as he remembers. "Secret girlfriend," he replies with a smirk. "You know, from Christmas…" He trails off, staring after his friend with concern when sees her turn and walk down the hall towards her living room without uttering a word in reply. "Callie, what's wrong?" He calls, following after her. She flicks on the lights and comes to halt behind on of her armchairs.

"How stupid do you think I am?" She asks quietly.

"What?" Mark asks with a nervous laugh, walking across the room to stand by her side. "Callie, what are you talking about?"

"I want you to tell me how stupid you think I am," Callie repeats, "because obviously you thought I wouldn't find out. You thought I wouldn't be able to put it together." She turns her head, her dark eyes boring into Mark's. "You just lied—I gave you one last chance to tell me and you lied to me—without even the littlest concern that I might know about all of this."

"Callie," Mark replies with an uneasy smile. "What are you talking about? All of what?"

"Don't play the stupid card with me," Callie cuts in angrily, her voice low. "Don't for one second think that I don't know about her."

"Her?" Mark repeats, trying to sound nonchalant and keep his expression open.

"Yes, _her_," Callie replies, glaring at her best friend with black daggers for eyes. "_Lexie Grey_," she spits out venomously, "the woman whose marriage you ruined."

. . .

_Author's Note: Please review!_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23:**

_Author's Note: I'm very sorry for the delay, everyone. College apps have been kicking my butt. I hope you're all still interested :)_

_. . ._

_ "_Lexie Grey_," Callie spits out venomously. "The woman whose marriage you ruined."_

"Great," Mark sighs loudly. "I'm getting lectured instead of fed. This is exactly what I was looking for. Thanks, Callie. I know I can always count on you to be straightforward."

"I'm serious here, Mark."

"So am I. I'm starving. Did I not mention that?"

"What the hell did you think you were doing with her?" Callie snaps, crossing her arms.

"You know what?" Mark asks, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm not so sure I need to explain myself to you, Callie," he says before turning and walking towards her front door.

"Like hell you do!" Callie shouts after him. She quickly catches up with the plastic surgeon, pulling him to a stop. "Mark, she had a _husband_," Callie continues before he can speak. "How could you not respect that?"

"I didn't start it," Mark replies defensively.

"I don't care!" Callie hisses. "I don't care who started it, I don't _care_ who showed up at whose door," Callie snaps. She stares at him menacingly. "_You _should have been a man about it and sent her away."

Mark shakes his head in exasperation, stepping away angrily. Callie's eyes follow his every movement, and she's more than a little surprised when he doesn't bolt for the door. "I tried, okay?" He stops walking to look his best friend in the eye. "I tried to stop seeing her. I tried to call it off. I tried, but it… Cal, it just didn't work."

Callie sighs heavily, and it's a few seconds before she speaks. "You know that's a bad excuse."

"Well…" Mark shrugs. "It's the only one I've got. And it's not an excuse, it's the truth."

Callie shakes her head slowly. "I just can't believe you did this. After you saw what this did to Addison and Derek…" She trails off. "You know, it's Lexie, so I get it. I understand what you feel for her and I get what she is to you, but honestly, Mark… How could you do this _again_? Not just to her, but to Jackson, too?" Her empathetic tone turns harsh. "Did you get bored of building up his career and decided it'd be fun to smash his marriage instead?"

"It wasn't like that, Cal. He had nothing to do with this."  
>"Except the fact that he was her husband."<p>

"She could have been married to anyone else and this still would have happened."

Callie purses her lips together at this, but she doesn't say anything. Mark braces himself, unsure if she just doesn't know what to say or if she's building up to an explosion. But when she speaks again, her voice is quiet.

"To think I thought you might've changed," she begins. "To think I thought you were capable of being a good guy."

"Callie…"

"I guess I was wrong," she finishes simply. "I thought maybe after what you went through with her, you'd learn what it's like to put _real _work into a relationship. I thought you'd find someone to finally settle down with—"

"I—"

"But just like always, I was expecting too much of you." She fixes her cold gaze on him. "And just like always, you disappointed me. Again."

"Shut _up_, Callie." Mark's voice comes out a threatening growl. "You have no right to—"

"—expect better of you?" She guesses, cutting in quickly. "Right. Sorry. Here I was, thinking you were a good guy. Finally. But now I see the error of my ways."

"Yes, because all I'm meant to do in life is to live up to your expectations, right? That's my only purpose in life, living up to what the great Callie Torres has in mind for me? Well, guess what, Cal." He pauses, taking care to stare into her dark eyes. "I don't care what you think of me. You can think I'm an ass, you can think I'm a stand-up guy—_it won't matter_. Your opinion doesn't matter to me anymore, no one's does, except—"

"—hers?" Callie finishes for him, eyebrows cocked. "You don't care what anyone thinks of you except what she does, is that it?"  
>Mark straightens his back, squares his shoulders. "Yes. It is."<p>

"So I guess if you don't care what I think, I have no use in your life now then, huh?"

Mark has to bite his tongue to keep from refuting her statement. _Maybe this is the way it has to be, _he thinks. _You can't have everything you want after all. You have to give some things up to get what you really want. _And he'd learned that lesson too many times: with Derek and Addison, with Sloane and Lexie… He wanted the most of countless situations in his life, but it never turned out to be possible. And now, here, it wasn't possible again. But at least this decision was less painful than the others. Or so he liked to think.

While he was lost in thought, Callie had waited for him to reply. He doesn't. He doesn't' show any gesture of confirmation, and when he finally manages to speak, his words are ambiguous. "I don't need you to be my moral compass, Cal."

Callie stares at him for what seems to be an eternity, puzzling out his words. Finally, she gives up and lets out a large sigh, all the while never taking her eyes off of him. "We have nothing else to discuss, then."

Mark stares at her for a minute before nodding and turning away. She doesn't call out to him as he heads to the door, and she doesn't stop him when he gets in his car and drives away. It's only as he's pulling into his parking space floors beneath his apartment that he realizes her statement may have, in fact, been a question. And maybe his leaving was a bigger answer than he'd ever intended to give.

. . .

"Hey," Lexie calls. She has a smile on her face, but it quickly falters when she catches sight of his stormy expression. "What's wrong?" She asks immediately. "Did surgery—"

He shakes his head, turning around to shut the door behind him. "I wasn't at work."

"So you were…?" She trails off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

"I was at Callie's."

"You were?" Lexie pivots as he walks past her into the apartment. "Well…" Lexie trails off when he doesn't offer a response. "What happened there?"

"I got the first of what I'm sure will be many lectures on the state of my…" He pauses, catching her eye. "Affair," he finishes with a roll of his eyes.

"We aren't an affair anymore, Mark."

"I know that. It was a figure of speech. Partly."

"Oh." Lexie nods in understanding. "She doesn't, then?"

Mark sighs, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. "She doesn't want to accept it, that much is clear. But she knows you left him. She told me she knew about us all along, but I really doubt that's true. More than Meredith or Derek, Callie would have—"

"—said something," Lexie finishes quietly for him. He meets her eyes, opening his drink.

"Yeah," Mark replies, coming to stand beside her at the counter. "She definitely would have said something." He blinks slowly, letting out a tired sigh as he takes a swig of his beer. His lips flicker into a smile when he feels Lexie's arm wrap around his waist and pat his side. He looks down to meet her worried brown eyes.

"You okay?" She murmurs.

"Yeah," he smiles softly. "I'm fine."

Lexie manages a small smile, hugging him tight for a moment with one arm. In return, he wraps an arm around her waist as well, rubbing her hipbone.

"Did you want her to know?" Lexie murmurs a few seconds later as she passes the beer back to him.

Mark takes the bottle back, taking a sip before asking, "What do you mean?"

"Did you want Callie to be telling the truth; did you want her to know about us?" Lexie asks softly, tilting her head to rest it against his shoulder. "Did you want… Did you want people to find out, did you want us not to be a secret anymore?"

Mark sighs heavily and sets his drink down on the counter. As he contemplates his answer, Lexie continues. "She's your best friend," Lexie points out softly. "It makes sense that you'd want her to know." She looks over, staring at him, but when he doesn't reply, Lexie answers her own questions.

"I wanted people to know," she admits softly. His eyes fly to hers, but she stares at the countertop, oblivious to his shocked stare. She had always been the one wanting to keep their clandestine meetings just that—secret and hidden, cut off from the world. _Since when had she wanted everyone else to know?_ "It was terrifying," Lexie continues, not sparing a second, "to think that someone might know, and might tell him, but part of me… Part of me wanted him to know, or wanted someone to tell him. Part of me wanted it all over, and through that, part of me wanted to be forced to make a decision."

"Well, I got that last bit down," Mark notes dryly after he's moved past the shock of her confession.

Lexie smiles faintly in the direction of the counter. "You did," she replies, finally looking up to meet his eyes. Her gaze holds his for a moment before he speaks.

"I was conflicted too," he murmurs, and Lexie can feel his hand on her waist grow firmer. "There were some days when I wanted to drive over to Meredith's and just—just kiss you in front of everyone, so that they'd know that you were—that we were…" He trails off, shaking his head. "I almost did, too," he mutters a second later. "There were so many times when I thought, 'Screw this, I'm done hiding.'" He sighs heavily. "But then… Then I'd stop and think for a second, and I'd realize all that I would lose if I did something like that. I know whatever I said about us, you would refute. And I knew if I did something insane like kiss you in front of everyone, you'd shove me away. So I—"

"I wouldn't have wanted to," Lexie interrupts quietly. "I wouldn't have wanted to shove you away, or say you were lying. But…" She looks away, guilty and embarrassed of her past behavior. "Back then, I couldn't have risked something like that."

"I know," Mark murmurs in understanding. "That's why I never left and came to Meredith's for you. The cost of letting him know was so much that I knew I'd never be able to go through with it. The mere idea that you'd denounce us in front of everyone was enough to turn me off from acting on those impulses."

"I wouldn't have wanted to," Lexie repeats, moving closer to him. "I wouldn't have wanted to, but—but—"

"There was no other choice," he replies quietly, staring into her eyes. "I know there was no other choice."

"I'm so sorry for that," she murmurs. "I'm so sorry I put you through all that."

Mark shakes his head. "You're here now," he whispers, and his calm blue eyes tell her not to worry. "That's all that really matters."

. . .

_The next day_

. . .

"I'm going to Meredith's today," Lexie announces at breakfast.

Mark glances up, staring at her. "You are?"

Lexie stares at him, waiting for him to remember, before realizing that he won't. In everything that had happened between him and Callie, she'd forgotten to tell him the fate of all of her possessions and he, no doubt, had forgotten the problem completely. "That's where Jackson shipped all my stuff," Lexie informs her boyfriend. "He didn't want it in the house so he—"

"—sent it to your sister's." Mark pauses, contemplating this. "That was nice of him," he concludes after a moment.

"Yeah, nice," Lexie mutters. She didn't particularly want to face her sister this early on in her new life—for this extended an amount of time—but if that's what had to happen to start over, so be it. "I know he never would have, but it would have been so much easier if he'd just sent everything here."

"If he sent the stuff here," Mark points out, "your belongings would probably be loaded with bombs."

Lexie lets out a quick laugh before silencing herself and shaking her head. Mark grins at her fake disapproval, turning back to his food before they head out on their separate way for the day.

. . .

"Mer?" Lexie calls out into the Grey's house a quarter of an hour later, surprised to find the front door unlocked. "You here?" She crosses the threshold, glancing into the living room. "Derek?"

"Hello?"

"Meredith?" Lexie asks, recognizing the voice coming from the kitchen. A second later, her sister's head pokes out from the door at the end of the hall. She squints at her younger sister, taking a step into the front hallway. Lexie smiles at the sight of the honey-blonde woman, walking forward eagerly but she stops when she sees Meredith cross her arms and take a step back at her approach.

"What are you doing here, Lexie?"

"I…" Lexie pauses, regarding her sister with confusion. "I'm sorry, are you not even going to pretend you're happy to see me?"

"Why would I be happy to see you?"  
>"Oh, I don't know, maybe because we're sisters?" Lexie replies with a smile. "I… I haven't seen you since Christmas, Mer, and I show up here—"<p>

"Unannounced and unwelcome," Meredith finishes coldly.

"Un—unwelcome?" Lexie repeats, her eyebrows drawn at the suddenness of her sister's hostility. "What do you mean, unwelcome?"

Meredith stares at her sister for a quite minute before taking a deep breath and turning her back. She heads to the kitchen without a word, and Lexie follows quickly behind.

"What do you mean, unwelcome?" She asks again, leaning over the table that her sister has used to separate them.

"Look in a dictionary, Lexie. It means exactly what you think it means. I don't want you here."

"Why…" Lexie swallows, feeling more hurt than confused. "I'm your sister, Mer. Why don't you want me here?"

"Why do you _think_?"

"I… I don't know."

"Oh, don't play stupid with me, Lexie," Meredith growls, her eyes lighting up in anger. "We both know why I don't want you here."

"But I—I'm your sister, Mer," Lexie repeats, not knowing what else to say. _Blood relation has to stand for something, doesn't it?_

"_Half _sister," she corrects coldly.

"Oh." Lexie's throat closes around the solitary word and it barely manages to escape from between her lips. But a few seconds later, she's found her voice. "That's it, then?" She asks, her voice braver this time, louder with anger. "I make one mistake and suddenly we're not sisters anymore? I'm disowned?"

"_One _mistake?" Meredith replies with mocking laughter. "_One _mistake?" She repeats again, shaking her head in disbelief. "One mistake was Addison cheating with Mark. One mistake was—"

"—you sleeping with Derek when you knew he was married," Lexie shoots back. She watches Meredith's eyes tighten, but she doesn't back down or avert her gaze. To her surprise, though, Meredith nods in agreement.

"Yes," the blonde replies. "That was one mistake." Lexie watches as the hard, judging mask covers her sister's face again. "What _wasn't _one mistake was you screwing Mark through your _entire_ marriage."

Lexie opens her mouth to protest and defend herself, but Meredith beats her to it.

"And don't tell me it wasn't all one big mistake or lapse in judgment," Meredith tells her. "What you did with him was calculated. You planned it. Maybe it was a mistake the first time it happened," she allows begrudgingly, "but after that…" She shakes her head. "There was no way. You cannot look me in the eye right now and tell me you didn't plan on seeing him _every time _you came back to Seattle."

Lexie stares at her sister in silence for a minute. When she speaks, her voice is calm and controlled. "When I said one mistake, Mer, I didn't meant being with Mark." She stares straight at her sister, unblinking. "I meant marrying Jackson. That was my one mistake."

Seconds later, Meredith's harsh words cut through the dead air. "Get out."

Lexie stares at her sister in disbelief. "Mer, I—"

"Get out," Meredith repeats, her voice a snarl. "I don't want you in my house."

Lexie's face hardens, but she doesn't heed her sister's warning. "Do I need to remind you that I'm not the only one that's made mistakes here?" She asks, her voice coming out shriller than she'd intended. "I'm not the only one who's cheated here, Mer. You can't condemn me without condemning yourself."

"I have condemned myself," Meredith counters. "But that's in the past now."

"So is this."

"It _just _happened!" Meredith cries in protest.

"That doesn't make it any less in the past, Mer."

"Leave," Meredith orders. Her eyes are sharp as daggers. "I don't want you here. I don't need to sit here and listen to you try and convince me that what you and Mark did was okay."

"I never—"

"You don't live here, Lexie. Jackson shipped your things, so take them and go."

"But…" Lexie trails off, suddenly feeling like she's twenty-four again and being shut out of her sister's life just because of who she decides to spend her life with. "You're my sister," she finishes lamely, not knowing what else to say. Even Lexie can hear the weakness, the pleading in her own voice.

"Yes, and I thought you were mine." Meredith stares at her coldly. "Obviously not. The Lexie I know—_knew_—would never do something like what you did to Jackson."

Lexie bites her tongue, forces herself to keep her emotions in check, and turns to the door. Just as she reaches it, she looks over her shoulder to meet her sister's eye. "Just so you know, the Meredith I knew would never have let it happen." She opens the door and walks out, pulling it shut behind her.

It's only five minutes later, after Lexie's moved most of the boxes into her car, that she hears angry feet pounding across the house.

"I'm sorry!" Meredith calls after her angrily. "But were you trying to say that I'm the one to blame here?" Lexie looks up from around the open trunk of her car, catching her sister in defiant stance in front of her doorway. "_I'm _the reason you've been sleeping with Mark all this time!" She shouts across the chilly air.

"You aren't the reason," Lexie replies, walking past her to grab two boxes from the dwindling pile.

"Then what's the reason?"

"The reason," Lexie replies in exasperation as she heads back up to get two more boxes, "the reason I was sleeping with Mark is because I love him." She hears Meredith scoff loudly, but chooses to ignore it. "But the blame—" she eyes her sister as she descends the stairs "—the blame does fall partly on you."

"I can't believe this," Meredith mutters, turning away and walking a few paces in the opposite direction. She's so far away by the time she opens her mouth again that she has to practically shout. "You're blaming _me_ for this?"

"You have a part in it all, you have to admit," Lexie replies as she continues hauling boxes. "You, Derek, and anyone else that knew. If you knew, you had an obligation to do the right thing. You had an obligation to tell him or confront me—or Mark—and tell us to call it off."

"Oh," Meredith growls angrily. "_I _had an obligation! Right, me! Not you, of course. Not you, the woman cheating on her husband; no, you had no responsibility at all, did you?"

"I had responsibility," Lexie snaps.

"Really?" Meredith mocks. "Because you sure acted like you didn't have a care in the world, running off in the middle of the night!"

"Running off—"

"Oh, _yes_," Meredith shouts, stepping forward. Through their anger and shouts, sister notices the car pulling up in the driveway, nor the person exiting the vehicle. "Don't think I didn't know about your little midnight adventures, sneaking out to Mark's the first chance you got—"

"Great," Lexie shouts back. "So you knew! You knew all along, are you satisfied? You still did _nothing _to stop—"

"Because it wasn't my place—"

"Oh, bull shit," Lexie spits. "You could have—"

"What the hell is going on here?"

Meredith and Lexie's heads snap away from each other's immediately. They turn to face Derek Shepherd, who's calling out from the driveway across the lawn. When no one answers, he takes a couple steps forward and repeats his question. But by the time he speaks a second time, Lexie and Meredith have already turned back to each other, their eyes angry and their lungs full and poised to start shouting again. When Meredith breaks the tense silence, though, her words are far from a shout—yet still filled with contempt and utter disdain for the listener.

"Have a nice life."

Lexie stares at her, feeling her nose twitch in pent-up and held-back anger. "Yeah, you too," she spits out. She turns, grabs the last box, and stomps down the steps before another word can be spoken. She hears Derek's feet crunch across the snow and the Grey's front door slam shut a few seconds later. She chucks the last box into the back of her car angrily, not caring if she's breaking something, and slams the trunk closed. She almost jumps when she sees Derek standing beside her car, staring right at her.

"So are you going to tell me what just happened?"

Lexie takes a breath, exhales audibly in exasperation, and walks past him to the driver's door.

"Little Grey." He draws out the name, turning his head towards her as he speaks. Lexie ignores him, unlocking her car and opening the door. She's about to climb in when Derek's hand shoot out and shuts the door, cutting off her escape momentarily.

"What?" She snaps, glaring at him much more intensely than he'd expected. "You want to yell at me too? One shouting match wasn't enough?"

"No," Derek replies patiently. "I just—"

"Then you're here to kick me off your property, right?" Lexie concludes. "Meredith does the dirty work and you show up just in time to tell me to leave and never come back?"

"Why would I—"

"I'm done, Derek," Lexie cuts in angrily. "I don't need your approval to be with Mark and I sure as hell don't need _Meredith's_ approval. Leave me _alone_," she finishes in a growl.

"Lexie, I just—"

"I'm leaving, Derek. You don't need to escort me off the premises, okay?" She rolls her eyes. "I know the way home. As Meredith would point out, I can get there even in the dead of night."

. . .

_Author's Note: I know, there was a lot of fighting in this chapter… But things will be resolved. Eventually ;)_

_Please review, my friends! They'll help me to update (on time, maybe, for once?) :)_


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24:**

_Quick A/N Reply: I'd briefly like to say thank you to Lilyphia for her review on the last chapter-you have the perfect mindset for this story :)_

. . .

_Monday_

. . .

"She doesn't _hate you_, Lexie," Mark groans for what must be the hundredth time a week later. "How many time do I have to say it? She hates—"

"—us," Lexie finishes for him, roughly breaking apart one of the last cardboard boxes left in the apartment. She can hear Mark sigh impatiently behind her, but she doesn't bother turning around or taking back what she said. _It's the truth, anyway, _she tells herself.

"She hates what we did," Mark corrects her.

"She hates us," Lexie concludes with conviction. "She's always hated us."

"Come on, Lex." He pauses, waiting for her to turn around. When she finally faces him, he continues. "Do you really think that?"

"Yes," Lexie replies immediately. He raises his eyebrows, and she looks away. "Fine. No, I don't. Or I—" She breaks off, frustrated. "I don't know. All I can…" Her voice lowers to a whisper. "All I can think of is how she looked me in the eye and told me I wasn't her sister anymore. How I wasn't welcome, how I had to _get out_." Lexie swallows. "No one's ever looked at me like that before. The only explanation is that she hates me, or worse, us."

"Lexie," Mark murmurs softly, stepping closer. "Lex…"

"Even—even Jackson—" She pauses, taking a breath to calm herself down. "Even he didn't look at me like that." She looks over to Mark, her eyes begging him to understand. "Or… Or maybe he did," she mutters, still staring at him. "Maybe he did, but it didn't hurt as much because he didn't matter as…" She breaks off, burying her head in her hands in frustration. "It sounds horrible," she intones into her hands, "but Meredith disowning me hurt more than all of the fights with Jackson combined. I just…" She lifts her face, staring at her boyfriend. "I just thought she might be on my side with all this. I know it was stupid," she murmurs dejectedly.

"It wasn't stupid," Mark replies. Lexie rolls her eyes, but it doesn't deter him. "It was just hopeful," Mark tells her truthfully. "And the hope isn't gone," he adds after a moment when the sarcasm leaves her expression. "She might not want to talk with you right now—"

"You mean she might not want me to _exist _right now."

"—but she'll come around," Mark continues, ignoring her interruption. "It might take a couple weeks, or a month or two, but eventually, she'll get used to it." He reaches down, squeezing her hand. "She just needs some _time_, is all, Lex. Okay? Just give her some time, and I'm sure she'll come around."

Lexie sighs, giving him a sad half-smile before stepping forward and hugging him. She holds him tight, burying her head into his chest, before exhaling loudly. She lifts her head, pulling it back a few inches to look him in the eye. "When did you become Mr. Optimistic?"

He smiles gently, staring at her. "Hm," he murmurs, pretending to ponder the question. "I'm not sure. Maybe it was sometime around Christmas?"

Lexie smiles, kissing him softly. "I'm glad one of us confident about all this, at least."

"All you need to do is look on the bright side," Mark suggests.

"The bright side? What bright side?"

He smiles, steering her towards the front door and then turning her body to face the expanse of their apartment. She stares at it, taking in all of her additions, big and small. "At least we live together now."

"True," Lexie murmurs, resting her head on his shoulder. "That's one thing to be happy about." Mark turns his head towards her, kissing her hairline lightly. "And," she adds as he pulls back, "now that I'm officially moved in, I thought I might start looking for a job."

"Oh yeah?" Mark asks, turning so they're face to face. "Where are you going to apply?"

"Well…" Lexie begins. From the way she draws out the word, he can tell she's reviewing a mental list she's been compiling in her mind. "I was thinking I'd call the Chief, just to check if he has any openings, and if he doesn't…" She ticks off the options on her fingers. "I can look into Seattle Presbyterian, Ballard, maybe Virginia Mason… I could _try_ Northwest Med, but that's uptown a ways and I'm not sure how big of a Peds department they have…"

Mark nods along, pleased with her choices. "If you need some references, I can talk to Richard about supporting you at one of the other hospitals."

"Thanks," she smiles. "But I'm going to take this one step at a time. I know my Chief from Portland will give me a great rec wherever I end up going, but I'd rather get back in under Arizona if I can. She told me a couple months ago that she'd welcome me back if I ever moved…" She smiles, trying to be optimistic. "We'll see how it goes."

. . .

"Chief Webber."

"Hi, Dr. Webber, it's Lexie Grey. I was calling to see if—"

"Lexie," he greets happily. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Lexie smiles at his welcoming tone. "And you?"

"Very well, thank you."

"Chief," Lexie beings, getting right down to business, "I was wondering if I could talk to you about getting my job back."

"Your job?" Richard questions. "You're moving back to Seattle?"

Lexie glances around at the apartment, her eyes resting on the pile of empty boxes by the door. "I was…planning on it, yes."

"Well, I'll speak with our employment head," Richard replies. "But between you and me," the Chief lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "you've got it."

"Really?" Lexie asks, a bit taken aback. She never thought reclaiming her job would be possible—let alone this easy. "Thank you," Lexie replies graciously. "I was really hoping you had room."

"We've always got room for another Grey," Richard jokes. At the mention of her last name, Richard seems to remember something. "And Dr. Avery? Is he looking for a position, too? I'm sure we can speak to Dr. Sloan about a spot in Plastics—"

"No," Lexie replies quickly. "He's… He's staying in Portland, actually." She can almost see Richard Webber sit back in his chair at this news. No doubt he's already pieced together that they're no longer together. He possibly even knows the reason why. It's _his_ hospital, after all.

"Well," the Chief continues after a moment, seeing to come to his senses. "When can you start? How long will it take for you to move?"

"Actually, Chief," Lexie replies, "I've already moved."  
>"You have?"<p>

"Yes, I wanted to get settled before I called you."

"Ah," Richard replies knowingly. "With Meredith, I presume?"

"Not exactly," Lexie smiles, glancing around again with a slight grimace. _Like she'd let me live in her house after she practically kicked me out on the street,_ she thinks to herself. Mark notices her troubled expression and catches her eye from across the room. _You alright? _He mouths. Lexie nods, forcing her frown into a smile and mouthing _Fine _back at him.

"No," she answers the Chief. "I've found someplace else to live, actually."

"Well," the Chief replies. "That's great. I'll be very happy to have you back."

"Thank you, Dr. Webber. About Dr. Robbins—"

"I'll notify her just as soon as she's out of surgery," Richard replies. "When do you think you'll be able to start?"

"Start?" Lexie repeats, surprised again that she'll be working so soon. "Um, when—whenever is most convenient for you. If there are some patients I can manage for Arizona—"

"Oh, you'll have patients," Richard chuckles. "You'd think Seattle Grace has become a strictly pediatric center at the amount of cases we're getting."

Lexie frowns, confused. She'd worked at Seattle Grace-Mercy West Hospital for years, and there had never been that much of an overflow. "Why are there so many patients?"

"Well," Richard sighs, "we've had some bad luck with our peds surgeons recently… Dr. Hubbard has been on maternity leave for the last two weeks, and will likely be gone for the next three months; Dr. Stien moved to a practice New Mexico; Dr. Frank retired last month, and Dr. Oliand just up and quit." Richard sighs. "Ah, well. With you here, at least, it will take some of the stress off Dr. Robbins and the rest of the Peds staff, maybe spread the surgeon-to-patient ratio a bit less thinly."

"I'd be happy to help."

"Great. If you can put me in touch with your Chief from Portland, I'll be able to get the particulars in order. After that, we can set up a meeting to review your work so far and see where you'll fit in in our Peds department."

"Perfect," Lexie replies. "I can email her today, if you want. Do you need any other recommendations?"

"No, I think just the one will be alright. You worked for me, too, Dr. Grey, and I still remember your impressive work ethic." He chuckles. "How much could have changed in the last six years since you left, anyway?"

"Right," Lexie replies, forcing a weak laugh. "How much could have changed?"

. . .

_Friday_

_. . ._

Mark wakes up late Friday morning to an incessant knocking on his front door. Despite not wanting to get out of bed, he crosses the apartment quickly, thinking that maybe Lexie forgot her key. But when he opens the door, Derek Shepherd is standing in the hallway, his hand poised in mid-knock.

"Derek?" Mark asks in surprise. He opens the door a bit wider. "What are you doing here, man?"

Derek takes a moment to look his friend up and down, taking in Mark's sweatpants and lack of a shirt. "I was looking for Lexie, actually," Derek tells him. "Is she here?"

"No," Mark replies.

"Mark." Derek mutters in annoyance. "Come on. I know full well she's—"

"I literally meant that she's _not here_," Mark interrupts. "She's in a meeting."

"A meeting?" Derek questions, confusion pulling his eyebrows down. "What kind of a meeting?"

"She's at the hospital," Mark replies, "talking with Richard to see if she can get her old job."

"She's coming back to Seattle Grace?" Derek asks curiously.

"Yeah," Mark replies. He stares at his friend, slightly guarded. "What did you want to talk to her about?"

Derek sighs, shaking his head. "Meredith," he replies, pushing open Mark's door and effectively inviting himself inside.

"What about Meredith?" Mark asks, warily eyeing his best friend while shutting his front door closed.

"What, Lexie didn't tell you about that fight?" Derek lets out a bleak laugh. "It's _all _Meredith will talk about. Well, complain about, really. She's convinced Lexie moved back here on a whim and is effectively throwing away her entire—" Derek breaks off, suddenly realizing what he was going to say and who he was going to say it in front of.

Mark stares at him, crossing his arms and taking a step forward. "Throwing away her entire _what_, Derek?"

"Hey, I didn't say it," Derek replies, raising his hands in defense. "It was _all_ Meredith."

Mark rolls his eyes. "Oh, nice, blame it on your wife."

"It's true!" Derek replies. He stares at Mark before lifting a hand and running it roughly through his dark hair. "Look, Meredith is… _not_ happywith this situation. Frankly, I—" He breaks off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter what I think. What matters is that Meredith—"

"—thinks Lexie is throwing her life away by being with me," Mark finishes for him. Derek opens his mouth to refute the plastic surgeon's claim, but when he meets Mark's hard gaze, he doesn't bother hiding the truth.

"Yeah," Derek mutters. "She does."

Mark sighs. "Look, I know you want to talk to Lexie, but will you do me a favor and leave that detail out? She's already convinced Meredith's secretly hated her for years… Discovering that some of that hatred is real will nothelp things in the least."

Derek waves a hand impatiently. "I wasn't going to tell her that. I just wanted to talk to her about—"

"Mark," Lexie interrupts as she opens the door. "I've got good news! Richard said I've got the job. Granted," she continues, "I haven't talked directly with Arizona, and after what went down with you and Callie, who knows—" She breaks off, spotting Derek standing beside her boyfriend. She glances from one to the other, with her eyes finally settling on Mark. "What's he doing here?" She asks sharply.

"He wanted to—"

"I wanted to talk with you, Lexie," Derek replies. Mark glances at his best friend, thinking this might be the time to make himself scarce.

"You wanted to yell at me, you mean," Lexie corrects, crossing her arms over her chest defensively and keeping her distance from the neurosurgeon. Derek sighs, stepping forward as Mark exits the room. Lexie watches him go, and even though she wants to ask him to stay, she knows he isn't a part of this particular conversation.

"No, I didn't come to yell at you," Derek replies. "But congratulations on the job, by the way." He smiles, hoping Lexie might return the gesture. She doesn't. "Look," he says, "the reason I came here was to talk about Meredith."

"Oh, _great_," Lexie groans, walking into the kitchen. Derek follows after her, determined not to let their conversation end uncompleted with sarcasm. "What does she want now? Should I not be living within a five-mile radius, is that it?"

"It's not about where you're living," Derek replies patiently.

"Ah, so it's about who I'm living with."

"It's not that either."

"Then _what _is this about?"

"If you'd shut up for a second and stop making assumptions," Derek replies, "I'd tell you."

Lexie glares at him and crosses her arms angrily at his directive, but nonetheless stays quiet.

"But first," Derek begins, "you need to tell me why you went to our house. And don't say it was just to move all those boxes," Derek adds when she almost interrupts him. Lexie stares at him, frowning, before exhaling quietly and answering.

"Fine," she mutters. "You want the truth? I went to see Mer because I _thought_—on some stupidly childish level—that she _might _have been happy to see me. Even…" Lexie closes her eyes briefly, turning her head away from her brother-in-law. "Even after what I did, after the divorce, after everything… I just thought… _maybe_… she would be the tiniest bit happy to see that her was back in town." She hears Derek let out a large breath, but she doesn't stop. "I mean, I've barely spoken with her since I moved to Portland. And that—that's my fault, I know that, but still…" She trails off, and when it's clear to Derek that she isn't going to resume her train of thought, he steps forward, catching her eye.

"Okay, Lexie, I get that. And I appreciate you telling me the truth. But you need to remember that she has not had weeks to prepare for this like you have. To her, you just showed up out of the blue, demanding that—"

"—she be my sister," Lexie finishes for him. "Is that so much to ask?"

Derek stares at her, letting out a tired sigh. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Great," Lexie mutters. "So _I'm_ the bitch for expecting my own sister to be happy to see me."

"No," Derek replies in a measured tone. "You're the bitch for cheating on your husband."

"Thanks, Derek," Lexie replies sourly. "That was really helpful."

He gives her a half-smile. "I'm just being honest."

"Well, I can always count on you for that, can't I?" Lexie replies, smiling despite herself. Derek chuckles quietly, and after a few seconds, the two lapse into an easy silence.

"You know," Derek begins softly, "Meredith wasn't being completely honest with you when you came over."

Lexie stares at him, unsure of how to take this. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that she… Lexie, she may have yelled at you and shouted that you weren't her sister…" He offers her a gentle smile. "But you'll always be her sister. And despite what she might say, she will always want to have a relationship with you."

"Ha, tell that to her," Lexie mutters darkly.

"Hey," Derek warns, "I'm serious here, Lexie."

Lexie sighs unhappily, but meets Derek's cool blue eyes anyway. "You were saying?"

"I was saying that she didn't mean to cut you out like that," Derek replies. "She was only just getting to terms with the fact that you were actually ending you marriage and then—you appear at our doorstep like nothing's wrong."

"That's because nothing _was _wrong."

"Maybe to you," Derek concedes. "But she was still trying to make a reality out of everything that's happened in the last eight years, especially the last few months. She was trying to reconcile the old you with who you are now… And she was having some trouble coming to terms with it all."

"That doesn't give her the excuse to take it out on me."  
>"Well, no, not exactly…"<p>

"Not exactly?" Lexie echoes.

"Lexie, she has a right to be angry."

"Not really."

Derek stares at her, and the confusion she sees in his eyes forces her to explain.

"She isn't Jackson. She isn't my mother. She isn't my father and she isn't _really _my sister. The way I see it, she has no room to judge how I conduct my life when she's only been a part of it since after I became an adult. She didn't teach me values or life lessons; my mother did that. And as I said, Meredith is not my mother. She has no reason to condemn me, nor to make my life a living hell."

"Truthfully, I don't think her objective was to ruin your life, Lexie."

"Oh, and how do you know that?" Lexie snaps.

"Because she would argue that you've already ruined it yourself."

"Oh, for god's sake—"

"Lexie, all I'm asking is that you give her some time. Just let her cool off."

"Fine," Lexie mutters. "Fine, I'll give her some time."

"You will?" Derek asks, obviously relieved that his mission was so easily accomplished.

"Will I stay away from her?" Lexie clarifies. "Definitely. I don't want to talk to her anymore than she wants to talk to me."

"You know that isn't what I meant, Lexie."

"Well, then, you should have said what you meant, Derek, and been _honest _with me." She stares at him coolly before walking to the door and holding it open for him in a not-so-subtle hint to get the hell out. "Do you mind?" She asks. "I have more things going on in my life than discussing the bitchiness of my sister, if you can believe it."

. . .

_Author's Note: Review, please!_

_PS: I think I'm going to post a little New Year's themed story tomorrow, so keep your eyes open for that one :)_


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25:**

_Author's Note: Hi, everyone, I'm back! I have a quick message to an anon reviewer from last chapter, Jill: Thank you so much for your review; it really made me smile. PS: Welcome to the land of ML shippers. Trust me, you'll fit right in :)_

_Okay, I have to ask…_

_Did you guys see the recent spoilers? Hopefully without giving anything away, I'd like to say that I am really, REALLY pleased with what we've heard from Shonda so far. She's back on my good list—for now._

**_Please enjoy…_**

. . .

_Sunday, 10 PM_

_. . ._

"So the Chief seems happy to have you back," Mark notes, breaking the silence in the small bedroom. "He practically hired you on the spot."

Lying beside him, Lexie nods. "Peds need more surgeons."

He glances over to her, but she's staring at the ceiling and avoiding his eye.

"Are you nervous?"

Lexie turns her head at the question, staring at him. She opens her mouth to speak, but after a few seconds, it falls closed and she looks away again.

"You can be nervous in front of me," Mark tells her. He nudges her shoulder with his. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

A small smile appears on Lexie's lips at this, and a moment later, she's shifting her head more comfortably atop her pillow and facing him. She takes a breath. "I'm not nervous," she begins quietly. "It's just that… After almost six years, I'll be back where I started." She rubs a hand over her face tiredly. "And I just know something bad is going to happen."

"So you're nervous," Mark concludes. When she removes her hand to glare at him, he's smiling back. "What?" He asks. "It's okay to be nervous. _I'd _be nervous."

"No, you wouldn't."

"Okay," he agrees, "I wouldn't. But still. It's not that big of a deal."

"Yes, it is. This is where I'll be working probably for the rest of my life, Mark." She sighs. "And I'm starting out like _this_." She scowls. "I'm sure _everyone _already knows all the juicy details."

"You don't know that," Mark replies automatically. He frowns a second later. In all the tense excitement of the past few weeks, he hadn't once paused in the hallway to hear what the nurses were gossiping about, nor paid attention to any of the quiet murmurs of those useless interns under his tutelage. He had no idea if everyone knew all the juicy details.

"Well, yeah, I don't know it," Lexie concedes, "but I'm sure it's true. Everyone, down to the night janitor, always knows everyone else's business here." She scrunches her nose in angrily. "It's annoying. I should have seen if Seattle Pres had any positions," she mutters.

"Oh, come on. Won't it be nice to work together again?"

Lexie groans, flopping back against the pillow and covering her face with her hands. "Tomorrow's going to be a mess," she moans beneath her fingers.

"It won't be so bad."

Lexie drops her hand, staring at him with ingratitude. "Right," she replies sarcastically.

"Oh, come _on_," he replies. "What's going to happen? And I mean _really,_" he stresses, "what do you expect to happen that's going to be so awful?"

"I don't know," Lexie mutters. "I just have a bad feeling about all of this. I feel like people are going to start yelling at me the second I step on the premises."

"Not everyone is Meredith," Mark reminds her.

She cracks a smile. "True."

"And honestly, Lex…" He meets her eye. "I'm not sure anyone's going to _care_."

She looks at him blankly. "What are you talking about?"

Mark pushes himself up, propping his back against the headboard as he explains. "Okay, look," he beings. "What you're doing here is equating _this_ situation with what happened ten years ago—when the interns practically treated you like a pariah just for dating me." He stares at her. "They aren't the same."

"Yes, I know that."

"And the only people who really cared, who really had it out for you—were the kids in your own class. But you're not an intern anymore, Lex. You're an attending. No one's going to push you around. And though they might say stuff behind your back, they won't say it to your face."

"And that's better?" Lexie asks skeptically.

"Well… Yeah."

Lexie frowns, begrudgingly accepting his point. "Still," she replies. "I'll be new."

Mark chuckles. "Oh, and what? You think Arizona's going to haze you?"

"We'll see…"

Mark rolls his eyes. "Come on. Ms. Sunshine-and-Rainbows is not going to do a _thing_ to you. Just do your job and I'm sure she'll be happy."

"What about Callie?"

Mark's face darkens. "Well," he replies after a few seconds, "it's a good thing you won't have to deal with Callie."

"Hopefully."

. . .

_The following morning_

. . .

"I have to go prep for surgery, but you're good here, right?"

Lexie nods, standing in front of the Chief of Surgery's office door. "I have to speak with Richard and then hopefully I'll manage to find Arizona and get all my patients."

Mark nods. "Okay."

She smiles, tilting her head towards the catwalk, knowing he has to get to the OR. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure." He bends down, kissing her quickly. "Have a good day," he whispers in her ear as he squeezes her hand briefly before heading towards the ORs.

"I will," she murmurs quietly, gripping his hand for a moment before he steps away.

"Oh, and I almost forgot," he calls over his shoulder a few seconds later, just before he turns the corner. "Text me when you're off for lunch; I don't have anything around noon, so we can eat together if you want."

She waves, smiling slightly. "Okay. I will." She watches him leave her line of sight before turning back to the heavy wooden door. She takes a breath, puts her hand on the knob, and opens it.

. . .

"So I hear Lexie's back at work."

Mark looks to his left, surprised to find Callie Torres walking beside him. He stares at his "best friend," unsure of what she is now and eve less sure of what to say. "Uh, yeah," he replies lamely. "She talking with the Chief right now."

"Hm."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Are we on speaking terms again?" Mark asks.

Callie turns her head to look at him. "What do you think?"

"I think that I don't know if that question means 'yes' or a 'no,'" Mark replies, studying her. When she turns off and heads into one of the exam rooms they're passing, he gets his answer. "Nice talking to you, too, Cal," he calls as the door closes behind her. When there's no immediate reply, he makes his way to the OR.

. . .

"Ah, Dr. Grey."

Lexie smiles politely, trying to calm her jumpy nerves as she takes a seat in front of him. "Hi, Chief Webber."

He waves a hand, still studying the paper in his hand. "Call me Richard."

"Hi, Richard."

She waits patiently as he finishes reading the document in his hands, and when he finally looks up, she straightens in her seat. He takes off his reading glasses, setting them on top of the scattered papers on his desk. "It says here," Richard begins, "that Chief Jenner from OHSU wasn't quite clear on why you chose to leave Portland."

"What?" Lexie replies, caught off-guard and confused. "She knows why I left."

Richard frowns, handing her the paper. "Not from this, as I see it."

Lexie glances down at the letter, her eyes passing over many glowing recommendations before her gaze lands on the lines the Chief was questioning. _Keeping everything I just wrote in mind, I truly would love to keep Dr. Grey here on our hospital's staff. She's an extremely capable surgeon, does a phenomenal job connecting with her patients, and generally gets along well with her co-workers. Yet it seems like OHSU is no longer home for her, or so she told me when we had a brief phone conversation, during which she resigned. She did not offer any details for her departure, and I took that to mean that she is leaving for some personal matter or another. But I'm sure she will work just as hard back at Seattle Grace-Mercy West as she did here._

Lexie Grey stares at the paper long after she finishes reading it. She looks it over again, checking to make sure she didn't miss anything. She didn't. Lexie sits back in her chair. "How could she not have known?" She wonders out loud, completely mystified.

"Excuse me?"

Lexie snaps her head up, not realizing she'd spoken aloud. She hands the letter back to the Chief, avoiding his critical gaze, and thinks quickly. "Chi—Richard, may I speak candidly?" He nods. "If I'm being honest here, I have to say… I didn't think there was one person from OHSU or Seattle Grace who didn't know why I moved." She watches as his gaze tightens. "I would have bet my savings that everyone knew what was happening in my life, but I guess…" She gives him a weak half-smile. "There were a couple important people left out." She takes a quick breath. "I got divorced," she explains. "Now, I'm sure you already knew that, seeing as I told you Jackson was saying in Portland."

"But—"

"But I'm here," Lexie finishes for him. "And I'm here because—" She breaks off, shaking her head to clear her mind. "Richard, honestly, I thought you knew all this." She looks up at him, meeting his confused gaze. "I thought everyone…" She trails off, waving a hand. "It doesn't matter. What matters is, I'm here because I'm living with Mark," Lexie replies before he can ask. She watches the Chief's eyes widen. "And I'd really like my job back, if I can get it," she adds, almost as an afterthought.

"Sloan?" He asks after a moment. His incredulity is barely masked.

Lexie nods. "We're… Well, we're together now and he's the reason I moved back."

Richard regards her shrewdly. "If I'm correct, it stands to reason that he was also the impetus for your divorce, too?"

Lexie nods again. "Yes. He was."

"Well." The Chief pauses, sitting back in his chair. A minute later, he leans forward again. "I didn't quite expect to given that type of response," Richard replies, taking Jenner's letter and filing it away, "but the reason I pointed out that your Chief was ignorant of the situation concerning your departure is because I _can't _be ignorant when it comes to things like this." He stares at her. "I need honest and dependable people here, not ones who will run across state borders without so much as an explanation for their boss."

"I won't be going anywhere, Richard."

"Lexie," the Chief continues, ignoring her interruption, "I hired you because we've worked together before. I know how great your work ethic is, and I know how much care and time you put in with your patients. But right now, I need to make sure you won't hide things from me. This is a big hospital, and I can't keep track of everyone, but at the rate we seem to be losing Peds surgeons, I need to know that the ones I'm hiring are ones I can stick with and count on."

"You can count on me, sir." She lifts her chin. "I can promise you that. I…" Lexie bites her lip for a moment, thinking back. "I can't figure out why she was so unclear about my reason for transferring." _She must've known. Jackson must have told _someone. _He _must _have, and then it would filter down to her. She _had_ to have known._

"Regardless," Richard replies, drawing Lexie out of her thoughts. "I need to know I can trust you."

Lexie replies immediately. "You can."

Richard stares at her with hard eyes for a moment before resting back in his chair. "Well, all right, then." He stands, and Lexie scrambles to her feet quickly. He holds out his hand, and she takes it, still half-nervous he's going to send her away. But he just smiles, and squeezes her hand within his firm handshake.

"Welcome back, Dr. Grey."

. . .

"Hey," Derek Shepherd calls, poking his head into the almost-deserted scrub room.

Mark glances up at the voice, peeling off his plastic gloves and turning the faucet on. "Hey," he replies.

"How, uh, how was surgery?"

"Good."

"And, um… How's Lexie?"

Mark puts his hands under the water, washing them methodically. "Fine, I think. She's talking with Richard right now."

"But she's got the job?"

"Unless she somehow bombs this little interview, yes, she has the job."

"That's good."

Mark finishes washing his hands, and steps towards the door to grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser. He stares at Derek, noting that the neurosurgeon seems to be thinking hard about something. "Did you just come in here to ask if she got the job and see how the surgery went, or was there something you wanted to talk about, Shep?"

"Mark… What I said back at Christmas..." Derek trails off, obviously lost for words as he closes his eyes.

"Look, man, I don't have all day, so just say what you have to say. I have another surgery to get to," he adds, glancing at his watch. Derek nods, taking a breath and opening his eyes to face his childhood friend.

"Back at Christmas, when I saw you two together, and I told you I didn't think she'd ever leave him for you…" He smiles a moment later, and it lights up his eyes. "I just wanted you to know that I've never been so happy to be proven wrong."

Mark stares at his best friend, completely caught off-guard by his warmth. "What?" is all he manages to say.

"I just…" He shakes his head in disbelief, but there's a smile on his face. "Mark, she's _here_. She got divorced, left her home behind, quit her job… She moved almost two hundred miles just to be with you…" He grins. "If that isn't commitment, love… Then I don't know what is."

"I…" Mark's surprised to find that he'd been smiling without even having noticed. "Geez, Derek," he mutters half-jokingly, "I don't really know what to say to that."

The neurosurgeon smiles. "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know, is all. And even though it might be hard right now, with Meredith… With Callie… I wanted you to realize that I've got your back here." He stares at his best friend seriously. "And I was wrong to doubt you guys before. I'm sorry about that."

"There's no need to apologize," Mark replies, slightly confused that his friend would even come to that conclusion. "I mean, who would have thought this would have ever worked out?"

Derek smiles, shaking his head in happy bafflement. Mark chuckles lightly before heading to the door.

"Well, I…" Mark makes his way across the room. "I've gotta go—"

"Right," Derek interrupts, holding the door open and following him out. "Don't want to keep your patient waiting."

"Yeah, but…" Mark stops outside the scrub room, staring at his best friend and trying desperately to find the words to express his gratitude for the other man's faith and acceptance, especially after everything that they've gone through together over the years. "Derek, you don't know what this means to me."

The neurosurgeon smiles, his expression gentle. "Of course I do."

"No, you…" Mark sighs, but he's still unable to find the words.

"Look," Derek says, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You don't need to give me some big speech about what my acceptance of your relationship with her means. I know what it means, okay? She's the love of your life." He smiles. "I kind of know what it's like to have one of those, and you can't always find the words to describe them."

Mark grins. "Yeah, I'd say so."

"…Which means she should be treated accordingly," Derek murmurs, as if finishing a previous thought left incomplete. Mark notices a determined look in the neurosurgeon's blue eyes when he stares at him. "I'm going to talk to Meredith," he announces a second later. "Maybe if I explain it, she'll understand you guys."

"I don't think she needs an explanation, Derek," Mark hedges. "What she needs is time," Mark tells him, "to see that we're real. Then she'll figure it out."

"She's had time," Derek replies, suddenly annoyed. "She's had two, six, eight, ten…" He ticks the numbers off on his fingers. "She's had a decade to see how real you two are. It's time for her to come to terms with it, to understand that it won't be changing anytime soon, and to _accept it_."

Mark sighs. "Great," he mutters, half-hiding a smile. "Now if you accomplish this, I'll be even more in your debt."

Derek chuckles, moving to walk away. "When we need a babysitter for those late nights out, I'll call you."

Mark grins, calling after him, "You know that isn't a punishment, right?"

. . .

"Hi," Lexie greets the charge nurse in the Peds ward. "I'm looking for Dr. Robbins. Do you happen to know—"

"Dr. Grey?"

Lexie turns around, coming face-to-face with a small, blonde-haired woman. She's holding a stack of charts in her hands, her eyes flitting around the room. The nervous energy and fear that emanates from he body is unmistakable. Lexie almost smirks. _Intern._

"Yes?" She asks instead, looking pointedly at the girl.

"You're Dr. Grey?" She clarifies.

Lexie smile's thinning. "I can check my coat here, but I believe that's the name sewn above the pocket."

"Right," the girl replies quickly, fumbling as she tries to pass some of the charts to the older doctor. Lexie doesn't miss how the girl's eyes flick to the monogram on her lab coat. _Tell me I wasn't this bumbling as an intern, _she thinks to herself, already annoyed.

"Dr. Robbins," the girl begins, "told me to give you these when you showed up." She passes Lexie eight binders of various shapes, some large, some small—all of them turning into one heavy pile in Lexie's arms.

"Is she in surgery?" Lexie questions.

The intern nods. "She said when I saw you I should give you these."

"You said that."

"She said you could start with anyone of them, but that Paul Kopla and…" She pauses, trying to remember. "Macy Heller," she announces a moment later. "She said those two needed to be visited today, but other than that, whichever ones you can get done."

"Great." Lexie smiles politely, hefting the charts in her arms. "Thank you…" She trails off, waiting for a name.

"Kelly," the girl replies, thrusting out her hand. "Kelly Miller."

"Great," Lexie replies. "I'd shake your hand, but…" She trails off, nodding to the charts.

"Oh, right," Miller replies. "Of course. Here, let me…" She grabs a couple of the binders from the top of the stack.

"Thanks," Lexie replies. She glances at the girl. "Are you supposed to be in surgery?" The girl shakes her head; Lexie isn't surprised. "Great. If you don't have anything else to do, come with me and we can try and see to Mr. Kopla and Ms. Heller and anyone else we can fit in before lunch."

. . .

"Hey," Lexie says a few hours later, dropping her lunch tray on the small table.

Mark looks up when she sits down; he folds the newspaper he'd been reading, sets it aside, and smiles across the table at her. "Hey."

"How were your surgeries?"

"Good." He stares at her, studying for any signs of anger. He finds none. "How was your morning?"

Lexie meets his eyes, and a smile stretches over her face. "It went surprisingly well, actually."

"You haven't been accosted in the halls, then, I take it?"

She shakes her head, picking at her salad with a plastic fork. "No, I haven't. What about you?"

"No," Mark answers, remembering how Callie had barely said ten words to him earlier in the day. His conversation with Derek crosses his mind, as well, just as it had been doing multiple times since it happened. But he decides that this isn't the best place to talk about it what Derek said to him. "My morning was fine."

"What time do you get off?" Lexie asks curiously around a mouthful of lettuce.

"Six," Mark replies. "You?"

Lexie frowns. "I don't know. I haven't seen Arizona. She just left me with a load of charts and this perky little intern…"

"Perky?" Mark repeats with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," Lexie mutters. "She like Arizona's bubbly but bumbling double. It took her fifteen minutes to draw this kid's blood; I thought I was going to have to do it for her. Or call a nurse, at the very least," she adds. "How hard is it to draw blood?"

Mark shrugs.

"I really don't want to see her in an OR." Lexie sighs. "But she's good with the kids, at least, I'll give her that." Lexie shakes her head, remembering. "I swear, every time we went to a new patient, the kid would light up the second they saw her. It was like she spoke a different language with each of them; you wouldn't believe the amount of inside jokes she has filed away in her brain. Even when she was pricking that kid's arm for a quarter of an hour, she had him laughing and smiling."

"You're being upstaged by a perky intern," Mark notes with a wry grin.

"I am not being upstaged," Lexie mutters, her eyes flicking to his. "She just has the advantage of being here longer, of having relationships with these kids."

"What did you say her name was again?"

"Kelly," Lexie replies, watching as a wide smile spreads over his face. "Kelly Miller," she repeats slowly, watching him. "Why?"

Mark chuckles, attempting to chew and swallow before he answers her. "She's the one who reminded me of you."

Lexie's eyes widen. "_Excuse _me?"

"It's true," he replies, laughing at her outraged expression.

"You did not just say that," Lexie says heatedly. "She can't be me. She's so—"

"—annoying?" Mark offers with raised, mocking eyebrows.

Lexie narrows her eyes, reaching across the table and swatting his hand. "Stop it. I wasn't that bad."

"Sure you weren't."

"I wasn't!"

He grins. "I never said you were, did I?"

Lexie stares at him for a few seconds more before turning back to her lunch. "I don't want to talk about her anymore. Change the subject."

"Fine, fine," he smiles. He falls silent for a moment, staring across the table at her. She doesn't notice him staring, and once again, his conversation with Derek reverberates through his brain. He's about to bring it up when she speaks.

"So what are you up to this afternoon?" She asks, lifting her head from her food. There's a faint smile on her open face, and as he stares back at her, Mark finds that he has trouble remembering the rest of his schedule for today. _Back at Christmas, when I saw you two together, and I told you I didn't think she'd ever leave him for you… Mark, she's _**here**. _I've never been so happy to be proven wrong._

. . .

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, to Lexie's great relief. While Mark was in surgery almost the entire day, Lexie was in patient's rooms, checking other surgeon's pre- and post-ops and getting to know her soon-to-be patients. She didn't see Arizona at all, but that didn't bother her too much. She'd be back tomorrow, as would Dr. Robbins, and they'd talk it all out then. Besides, after admitting everything she had to the Chief, Lexie didn't quite feel like hashing it out all over again with the pediatrics attending whose wife would barely acknowledge her or Mark's existence, let alone their relationship.

So when six o'clock came, and she was finished visiting her patients for the day and Dr. Robbins was nowhere in sight, Lexie said goodbye to Kelly for the day, visited each of her patients one last time and wished them a good night, found Mark, and then headed home. They had a small dinner, which he made, and their surprisingly normal day was coming to an equally surprising normal end. They ate, cleaned up the dishes, and were in bed by ten.

. . .

"So I had a nice talk with Derek today," Mark tells her finally as they lie side by side in bed.

"Oh, yeah?" Lexie murmurs. "What about?"

"You."

She opens her eyes, turning her head to look up at him from her pillow. "Me?"

Mark nods, watching her face. "He said he was happy for me, happy that we were together." He shifts towards her so their faces are level, and just a few inches apart. "He called you the love of my life," Mark smiles. "And I didn't even have to prompt him," he adds a second later. A loving smile breaks out across Lexie's face, and she doesn't hesitate to move forward and kiss him deeply.

"You must've been so happy," she whispers when she pulls back He can see her own happiness for him shining in her eyes. "I know how important his opinion is to you."

Mark nods, staring right at her. _She gets it_, he thinks, feeling his heart swell. "He accepted us," Mark replies, still feeling awe-struck from the morning. "And he—he did more than that." Mark smiles, moving closer. "He said he'd try to talk to Meredith for us."

The happiness drops off of Lexie's face in a tenth of a second. "What?" She asks, shocked.

"He said he'd—"

"Why?" She whispers. Her eyes widen. "Did you—"

"No," Mark mutters immediately. "Of course I didn't suggest it."

"Then why—"

"I think he's sick of how Meredith's been acting about you. When I told him to give her time, he replied that she's already had ten years to figure us out in her head." He looks pointedly at his girlfriend. "See?" He points out. "He's on your side."

Lexie frowns, but he can see she's reluctantly grasping this as good news. "I don't want to talk to Meredith," she tells him a moment later.

"And you won't have to," Mark replies. "All Derek wants to do is make her understand _us_—not you."

"I don't think she'll understand either," Lexie mutters. She closes her eyes, calming herself. A second later, the smile is back in place on her face. "But I'm so happy for you," she tells him. "I know what it's like to long for approval from someone like that."

Mark bites his tongue at her words, forcing himself not to mention the fact that she's currently shutting out the one person she so desperately wants approval from more than anyone else. "Thank you," he replies instead. She smiles happily, lifting her head from the pillow to press a kiss against his lips.

"This was a good day," she whispers a few seconds later when they settle beside each other for the night. Mark glances over to her, searching her face for any sorrow or fear. There is none. He presses his face against her shoulder, kissing her skin gently.

"Let's hope tomorrow's good, too."

. . .

_Author's Note: **Please review**! _

_Also: If you guys are interested, I posted two new fics since the last time I updated; one of them is the New Year's fic I mentioned in the last chapter. The other, called "All For You," is a songfic that's tied pretty closely to this story. I'd love it if you guys would check those two out and tell me what you think._

_Thank you all for reading. I hope Shonda doesn't hold out on us for too long :)_


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26:**

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reviewing! (Insert apology for late update here.) I hope you like this chapter, too._

_. . ._

As it turned out, tomorrow was good.

Lexie managed to meet with Arizona early the following morning, and though it was clear she didn't approve of the circumstances that led her former pupil back to her, they both knew there wasn't one thing she could do it about it if wanted the extra help. So the pediatrics attending took advantage of the situation before her, and gave Dr. Grey all the cases she could handle.

Compared to what they'd heard had happened between their respective partners, both Arizona and Lexie were relieved that they could meet without argument or harsh words. Arizona was obviously unhappy with the situation, but at least she had the courtesy not to make her opinion public knowledge. It wouldn't help matters if the department head started warring with her subordinates, especially when there were so few.

But just because her boss approved of her, the gossip didn't stop. Neither did the stares, nor the whispered rumors.

And having April Kepner shout at her in the middle of the hallway two weeks later didn't help matters much, either.

. . .

Lexie had almost jumped out of her skin when the stack of binders _slammed _against the hard countertop. Her eyes flew upward at the sound, and from her seated position in one of the nurses' chairs, she can see April Kepner standing before her. By the looks of it, she's had a rather bad day… And her anger seems to be targeted directly on Lexie.

"You're a bitch."

It takes Lexie a few moments to understand the sentence; she can't believe whose mouth these words are coming out of. "April?" She questions, her eyebrows drawn down and her forehead creased in confusion. _What is she talking about? I haven't said one word to her since I got back._

"You're a bitch, for doing what you did to Jackson." Lexie's eyes widen in surprise. She hadn't been expecting this—not from April, at least. When things went well with Arizona, she sort of assumed everyone else would just on board the tolerance train. Obviously not…

"Oh, don't act all innocent," April snaps, her voice rising with anger. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. We both know what you've done, hell—" She breaks off, glancing around the hallway and taking in the now-captivated audience. "—we _all _ know what you've done."

Lexie gets slowly to her feet, putting her hands on the counter and leaning towards the other surgeon. "April, if you're referring to—"

"I'm referring to how you screwed Sloan—for _six years_ straight." She bends forward, sneering. "And I seem to recall you were married at the time, isn't that right?"

Lexie takes a breath, her eyes quickly scanning the hallway. Some of the doctors are looking on in slack jawed disbelief—how they still didn't know was unfathomable to Lexie—and the rest are simply sitting back and watching the show. _Why does everything have to be a big public spectacle here? _She wonders, furious. "I don't see how this is any of your business, _Dr. Kepner, _but if you'd really like to talk about it, we can do so in private," Lexie hisses, her eyes flashing and betraying her anger.

April's smile is nothing but a mockery. "Oh, private is it?" Her eyes dart around. "You're still not comfortable having these things to be discussed in the light of day, is it? Can't quite stomach the guilt, can you?"

"No, I'm just not comfortable having my personal life spread around the hospital _right in front of me_," Lexie replies.

"You prefer it to be happening behind your back, then? Because, trust me, that objective was achieved before you even got here."

Lexie stares at the other woman indignantly before walking to the other side of the counter, grabbing the trauma surgeon's arm, and leading them both to a more secluded part of the hospital. The gawkers don't step back. _If anything, _Lexie observes angrily as she pulls open the nearest on-call room door, _they've moved closer._ April wrestlers her arm easily out of Lexie' grip once they're inside and the door falls shut behind them.

"What the _hell_ is your problem?" Lexie hisses immediately, standing in front of the door with her arms crossed.

"_My _problem?" April repeats incredulously. "What about _your _problem? You're the one who—"

"Yes, cheated on my husband," Lexie cuts in rapidly. "I'm aware of my past mistakes, April, but gee, thanks for pointing them out for all our coworkers to see. That was really great of you. Really professional. No wonder we're such good friends."

April raises her chin, ignoring the brunette's jabs. "They deserve to know the truth," she states.

"Funny," Lexie mutters. "I didn't realize I was feeding them false information… I was more interested in keeping my personal life to _myself_."

"It stopped being personal the second you left your husband and came back here to act out long-lost-lovers drama with Sloan," April informs her nastily.

"Oh, you think this is a joke?"

"Do I look like I'm laughing?"

Lexie narrows her eyes. "No, but you look to be a little bit_ too_ immersed in my personal life." She tilts her head to the side. "Why do you care so much about what happened during my marriage?"

April stares at the pediatric surgeon, shooting down her implications with a furious glare. "Jackson was one of my best friends," she replies coldly. "At times, he was my _only _friend. I'm not going to stand by and him get treated like shit by the people he loves."

"I didn't…" Lexie groans, lifting a hand to cover her eyes. _You're too late, _she thinks to herself. When she removes her hand a minute later, she finds that April's still standing before her, looking oddly calm as she waits for an explanation. "Look," Lexie says, "it was never my intention to hurt him, okay? I—"

"You can't expect me to believe that," April interrupts. "Maybe if it was one time, sure—but this went on for _years_. You had to have thought about what this would do to him once he found out."

"Yes," Lexie replies. "I did think about it. I thought about it all the time… But the reason it went on for so long? He never did find out."

"Come on." April rolls her eyes. "Of course he did; you're divorced."

"That doesn't mean he found out."

April's eyes widen, and genuine surprise fills them. "You _told _him? _Why?_ Why would you do that?"

Lexie sighs tiredly. "Because I just couldn't lie to him anymore."

April frowns, staring at the other woman. "But I thought…" She trails off, unable to put it all together.

"Well, next time," Lexie growls, "why don't you think a little harder?" She heads to the door. "And stop shouting at me in the middle of the hallway," she calls as she slams it behind her. When she lifts her eyes to face the multitude of doctors and nurses who no doubt spent the last five minutes eavesdropping, Lexie never felt more grateful that she was no longer an intern. When once her colleagues would have stared or openly mocked her to her face, now they simply averted their eyes or, in the cases of the young interns, scattered away from the door they were just listening at. She watched them go, her eyes narrowed dangerously to hide her humiliation.

. . .

The second she stepped into the cafeteria the following afternoon, Lexie knew it had spread. She could hear the mutterings, she could see the wide eyes and almost feel the excitement of a new breakthrough into her private life. The words passed through the air like a wildfire, igniting everyone's imagination.

"So I heard April went after you this morning."

Lexie looks over, surprised to find that it's her sister—well, _half-sister, _Lexie corrects herself sourly—that has drawn her from her thoughts by choosing to speak to her face and not her back. Meredith had followed behind her in the lunch line, and now they were almost elbow-to-elbow as they got their food.

"Uh, yeah," Lexie replies belatedly a few seconds later as she steps down the line. She takes a breath, and in a second, all the anger from this morning rushes back. "She called me a bitch and recounted my infidelity to an entire hallway of doctors and nurses." Lexie glances quickly at her sister. "As if everyone didn't already know."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lexie sees her sister wince, almost sympathetically. "Ouch," she mutters.

"Yeah."

"What did you say?" Meredith asks as she pulls a plate of pasta off the counter.

"Well, I managed to drag her away to talk in private, but she pretty much said the worst of it where everyone could hear."

Meredith frowns slightly, and for a second Lexie's half-sure she saw a look of pity on her older sister's face. But she hears her pager beep, and glancing down at it, she realizes she'll be late if she doesn't leave now. "Well, I have surgery," Lexie excuses herself, quickly paying the cashier for her sandwich and cutting their conversation short. "But I'll…" She bites her lip, daring to look her sister straight in the eye for the first time today. "I'll see you later?" She finishes hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

Meredith nods, already walking away to eat her lunch. "Sure," she calls over her shoulder. Lexie watches her go for a second, trying to puzzle out where this almost-friendly atmosphere came from, but when she hears her pager chirp again, she jogs out of the room towards the ORs, and the conversation is banished from her mind for the time being.

. . .

_6 PM_

. . .

"Hey," Lexie calls, opening the apartment door. "Mark? You home?"

"Yeah," he replies. "Kitchen."

Lexie closes the door behind her, locks it, and quickly disposes of her coat and purse. She leaves them on the rack beside the door before walking into the rest of the apartment. Mark is studying a case file when she walks in. He looks up when she enters, but she heads straight for the cabinet below, to the right of the stove, without even sparing a glance for him. He raises his eyebrows when she surfaces from the low cabinet with bottle of wine in her hand.

"No 'hello?'" He asks, watching as she pours herself a generous serving without offering him any. "No, 'it's nice to see you, Mark, how was your day?'"

She eyes him, but doesn't speak, choosing instead to down a good portion of the alcohol in her glass. He crosses his arms, sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently until she decides to speak. A moment later, she sets down her glass carefully.

"April Kepner," she begins, staring angrily at the ruby liquid while her voice remains calm, "called me a bitch today." Her eyes flicker to his, watching his face open in shock. "In front of almost the entire surgical staff," she adds.

He leans forward a second later, his hand half-reaching towards hers over the island. "Why did she—"

"Why do you _think_, Mark?" She snaps, still bitter. She sighs a moment later spreading her hands to calm herself down. "Sorry," she mutters. "It's not your fault—"

"No my fault?" He cuts in with an amused smile.

She rolls her eyes to the ceiling, picking up her wineglass again. "You know what I meant."

"Yes, I did." He pauses a moment. "But still… Was there an actual reason? Or was she just pissed off at the immorality of it all?"

Lexie shrugs, and suddenly she realizes how little it mattered. She'd fumed and seethed about the encounter all day by herself since Mark wasn't there to commiserate with. But there had been Meredith… Lexie frowns, still confused about out-of-the-blue conversation. "I…" Lexie shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. "I should have seen this coming." She sighs slightly, meeting Mark's eyes. "I mean, they were practically best friends, right?"

"Eh," Mark dismisses. "Don't ask me. I barely know the woman."

"You know Jackson," she replies without thinking.

Mark stares at her, and she watches someone enter his eyes—just before she closes hers, mentally scolding herself for bringing him up. "Sorry," she mutters. "I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's fine." He pauses, meeting her eyes when she opens them. "I'm sorry about your day."

Lexie smiles for the first time at his sympathy. She walks over to him, leaning her side against his. "It wasn't all bad," she replies quietly as his arm wraps around her waist.

"Oh yeah?"

"Meredith spoke to me today."

Mark stares up at her, feeling a smile spread over his face. "She did?"

Lexie nods. "She heard about the whole April thing, and she was in line with me in the cafeteria… She empathized a bit."

"Didn't apologize, though, I take it?" He infers from her not-ecstatic tone.

Lexie frowns, as if she hadn't thought about that detail, but after a moment, she shrugs as if she didn't care. "Whatever," she mutters dully. Before Mark can question her, or apologize for bringing it up, she's pressing a kiss to the side of his temple before walking around to the other side of the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"What do you want to do for dinner?" She asks over her shoulder.

. . .

_6 AM_

. . .

Lexie sets down her muffin, staring across the table at her boyfriend. He notices her squinting at him and stares right back.

"What?" He asks. His voice is muffled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Did she only talk to me because Derek told her to?"

"You mean Meredith?" Mark questions after he swallows. Lexie nods, and Mark shrugs in return. "Don't know. I haven't had time to talk to him in a few days. Why?"

"Well, I remember you said Derek really wanted us to make up and was going to talk to Meredith about it…" She frowns, and he watches as her mood sours in the blink of an eye. "Is that the only reason she talked to me? Because Derek told her to?"

Mark rolls his eyes. "Come on, Lex. You know Meredith rarely listens to him," he grins, and Lexie smiles slightly. "I'm sure she talked to you because she felt bad. She knew you were on your own with this."

Lexie's smile widens, and she tilts her head at him. "I'm not alone."

"I meant with the girl-fighting thing."

"Yeah, well, maybe I wouldn't be so alone if she hadn't evicted me from her house, telling me never to come back."

Mark sighs in defeat. "There is that."

They finish their respective breakfasts in the near silence of their apartment. "So you're sure this wasn't because Derek made her?" Lexie checks again as they head off to work.

"Again," Mark replies. "She doesn't listen to the guy. It's the weird way they work and I've been told not to question it."

Lexie laughs, tossing the keys at him. "Okay, then. Good."

. . .

"Hey," Mark calls an hour later, spotting his best friend in the hallway. Derek Shepherd turns his head at the sound, loitering to the side of the hallway for the plastic surgeon to catch up. "Have you been talking to your wife?" Mark asks, falling into step beside him as they head down the hall.

"Talking to my wife?" Derek replies. "Why, yes, believe it or not, we speak everyday." He smirks for a second before glancing over to his friend. "Why?"

"Well, Meredith talked to Lexie yesterday, and she's been pestering me since it happened to find out if you pressured her into it or not." He eyes his best friend. "I told her you didn't."

Derek nods. "That would be correct."

"Knew it," Mark says, about to take his leave. Derek's voice draws him back.

"Well, I _did _talk to her—"

"What did you say?"

"I told her she should try and see you guys the way I do, and she replies that only a lunatic would see it my way."

"Great. Thanks, Derek."

"She's upset," Derek replies, as if that explains everything.

"I told you she needed time," Mark reminds him.

Derek grins. "Then put that down in the record books as the first time Mark Sloan was right and I was wrong."

Mark raises his eyebrows. "You sure this is only the _first _time you've been wrong?"

Derek rolls his eyes, waving his friend away as he heads into an exam room.

. . .

"Hello, I'm Dr. Lexie Grey, and I'll be taking over your child's case from Dr. Robbins," Lexie says as she walks into her next patient's room. Her eyes are glued to the chart, still trying to catch up with the multitude of new patients. "Now, I'm sorry Dr. Robbins hasn't had time to meet with you yet, but we've had some personnel—"

"Dr. Grey," a young girl repeats. She tries to hide a smile as she lies in her hospital bed. "That name sounds familiar," she muses.

"There's another Dr. Grey here," Lexie replies with a vague smile as she glances over the chart. "She's my sister, actually. You might have—" She breaks off as a grin spreads over her face when she glances up and gets a good look of her patient for the first time. "_Lauren_," she calls with a chuckle, easily recognizing the girl from Oregon that she's been treating for years. The girl in the bed beams.

"Hey, Dr. Grey."

Lexie smiles at her before looking to the child's mother, Martha Elder, stationed by her daughter's bedside. "What are you two doing here?" She asks, pleasantly surprised.

"We're stalking you," Lauren grins.

"When we heard you moved," Martha explains, "and we thought we'd come down and see your new practice."

"Plus, your replacement sucked," Lauren replies, earning a quick reprimand from her mother for her language. "What?" Lauren mutters. "It's true. Even _you _didn't like her."

"Well," Lexie smiles, "it's nice to see you both here… But I hope nothing's changed in your case since I left." She holds up the chart. "I haven't had a chance to study this yet; we've had lots of personnel problems in the department here, so things are a bit jumbled for now."

"Well, they're lucky to have you, that's for sure," Martha notes kindly. Lexie smiles in gratitude.

"Thank you," she replies before turning towards her patient. "So, Lauren," she begins with a smile, taking a seat beside her patient's bedside. "What's been happening since I left?"

"Not much," the girl replies. She frowns. "I never got that third arm I was promised."

Lexie laughs lightly. "I believe you were only promised one arm," she smiles, gesturing to the girl's transplanted arm, which lies limply on the sheets. "And you got it. Plus," she continues, "we don't like to 'promise' things to the patients. Sometimes—"

"Yes, yes," Lauren waves a hand. She's heard it all before, many times. "Things can go terribly wrong, I know, I know." She grins a second later. "But they didn't. Dr. Avery kept his promise, and just like he said, I got my arm."

Lexie feels her smile falter at the casual mention of her ex-husband, but she quickly covers it, knowing how perceptive the young girl can be. "Yes, he did," she replies. "How's your arm been doing these days?" She inquires, trying to move the conversation along.

"Well," Lauren replies, lifting her transplanted arm with her other hand to study it more closely. "It's doing okay. I can do some stuff."

Lexie scoots her chair closer. "Why don't you show me 'some stuff,' then?" She asks, leaning forward.

. . .

Thirty minutes later, Lexie has finished her exam. She wishes the Elder mother-and-daughter pair goodbye as she steps out the door. She's just about to head to her next patient when a voice stops her. She turns around when she hears her name being called by Lauren's mother.

"I just wanted to say thank you," Martha smiles when Lexie walks back towards her. "For seeing us, thank you."

"Oh, of course," Lexie replies warmly. "Even if I didn't have time, you know I'd make some for your daughter."

Martha smiles, glancing over to her child for a moment. Lexie takes the opportunity to speak. "So… Why _did _you two switch hospitals?" She asks. "It can't have just been for me. Did you get new job, a promotion?"

"No, no…" Martha's smile widens. "It _was _just for you, actually." Lexie tilts her head, fascinated and shocked in equal parts. "Well, don't tell Lauren I told you, but…" Martha glances to her daughter, as if unsure that the wall between them is thin enough for their quiet voices to pass through. "She really likes you," Martha admits. "When we were assigned a different doctor, we thought it was a mistake, but when we asked around…"

"I'd moved," Lexie finishes for her. She pauses, smiling slightly, still unbelieving of the situation. "You really came all this way just so I could treat you?"

Martha gives her a warm smile. "Lauren really likes you," she repeats.

"Good, then," Lexie replies, stepping away. "I really like her, too. She's a great girl."

"Dr. Grey," Martha says, putting a hand on Lexie's arm to stop her. "You should know, it was more than she just thought you were a good doctor…"

"Oh?"

"If…If it weren't for you, I'm not sure she would have tried so hard with the transplant. She really wanted to be healthy, and I think that's mostly your doing."

Lexie glances to her patient, a smile spreading across her face as she watches the young girl practice a few exercises the physical therapists taught her a couple weeks back in Oregon. "You know, I think it had more to do with her own drive than mine."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Martha replies. "She really looks up to you." The serious tone of her voice makes Lexie look back over to the mother. "She told me she wanted to be a doctor." Martha confides with a smile. "Tell me that isn't because of you."

"I…" Lexie smiles, taken aback. "I don't know what to say," she finishes lamely. Martha offers the pediatric surgeon a wide smile.

"I told you," she emphasizes, "you have a good effect on her."

. . .

Lexie breezed through the rest of her day. Her cheerful encounter with Lauren and her mother pushed all of the bad thoughts from her mind, and she enjoyed every second of it. The majority of her patients were low-maintenance; they simply consisted of check-up either preceding or following surgery, so the day was pretty simple. Even so, she took her time with each child, knowing her schedule would soon become hectic and she might not have this much time to get to know the kids later on. Each patient she prepped for surgery, she'd have to operate on in the coming days and weeks, and each operation took hours away from time she could be spending one-on-one with the kids. And on top of that, of course, there would be endless post-op check-ups from there.

So Lexie Grey relished these first couple days before the serious work would start to set in. At least, she was able to remind herself, with Lauren here, there would always be a piece of her day set aside to working with what she knew was a low-stress case. If things continued to go smoothly with the girl's transplant, there was no need for her to keep staying at the hospital… But Lexie liked to think that she might get to see the girl every once and a while, even so, just for old times' sake.

. . .

It was only towards the end of the day, when Lexie lifted her head from her charts to stretch her neck, that she caught sight of trouble coming towards her. She decided to head the problem off at the pass, hoping it wouldn't break her little paradise of a single, simple day.

"I have had a really nice day here, April, so please don't ruin it by shouting again."

Kepner comes to a standstill a few feet from her. "I'm not going to yell," she replies.

"All right, please just don't talk to me, then," Lexie replies, keeping her eyes trained on her paperwork. "I still feel like punching you and hearing your voice only makes indulging that urge all the more attractive."

"Look, Lexie, I just wanted to tell you—"

"That you wanted to get hit in the face?" Lexie asks, glancing up to the trauma surgeon for a moment. "Because, trust me, if you keep talking, it's _going _to happen."

"I just—"

"_April,_" Lexie groans. "How many times do I have to say it? I want as little to do with you as you want to do with me, okay?"

"I never said I—"

Lexie shakes her head in disgust and picks up her chart. "I'm leaving before they have to call security," Lexie informs April without looking at her. She hears April sigh as she walks away, but Lexie ignores it, continuing to walk ahead and away from what she knows would have been an explosive situation.

"If you feel like turning around at any point," April calls after her, "all I wanted to do is apologize." She watches as the pediatrics surgeon's stride falters. A moment later, it picks back up again, but not in the way April had hoped. "Fine," April mutters to herself, turning around and leaving as well. "Just keep walking away; that fixes everything."

. . .

_Author's Note: Please review!_


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27:**

_Grey's Note: Did anyone watch the most recent AU ep of Grey's? Admittedly, I haven't watched the show in months, but a friend forced me into watching this one with her… For once, I didn't regret it. (Probably because there was no annoying Julia-the-girlfriend.) Now, tell me I'm not the only one who freaked out when Mark carried Lexie into the ER and then started performing CPR. ...Even though they only had like 30 seconds of screen time together, I felt like screaming in happiness. I miss my Mark and Lexie :(_

_Author's Note: Anyway, down to business: Wow, you guys! I did _not_ expect to see such lovely reviews! Thank you all so much; they were wonderful to read :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well!_

. . .

_Saturday_

_. . ._

"Well, why didn't you let her apologize?" Mark asks later that week as they longue in their apartment for a few free hours.

Lexie sighs, meeting his eyes across the couch they're sharing. "I was already walking away," she explains, "and—"

"—and you wanted to be a child?" Mark guesses. She glares at him, but doesn't refute his claim. She doesn't want to admit it, of course, but his guess was not very far from the truth.

"I just didn't want to be around her anymore, okay?"

"So you decided you would ignore Kepner's attempt to fix the situation." He sighs. "No wonder this thing with Meredith is going nowhere," he mutters under his breath.

"_Excuse me_?" Lexie asks indignantly. "What did you just say?"

"I said, 'Go talk to your sister.'"

"Half sister," Lexie replies automatically, causing Mark rolls his eyes. "And no," she continues, "I'm not going to talk to her."

"Oh, come on, Lex," Mark mutters. "So she yelled at you. So she told you never to speak to her again." He eyes his girlfriend. "Have you ever tried talking to her since that happened? Because I really doubt she meant everything she said."

"I told you, last week we—"

"I meant about what happened." He raises his eyebrows. "Did you ask for an apology, or at least try to sort some of this stuff out? Did you try _anything_?"

"I'm not going to _ask _her for an apology, Mark. She needs to give me that on her own."

"Have you ever thought that maybe she's waiting for you to approach her about this?" Mark asks.

"She isn't," Lexie replies. "Meredith's always been an outspoken person. If something like an apology was weighing on her, trust me, she'd tell me. But she hasn't." She stares at him. "Can we just drop this, please?"

"Fine," Mark replies, knowing when to back off. "Let's leave it for another day." He rests his pointed gaze on her. "_Again_."

"If you keep this up," Lexie warns flatly, "I'm going to stop talking to you, too."

_. . ._

_Monday_

. . .

"Hi, Lauren." Lexie smiles warmly as she greets her fourth patient of the day. Things are going well, as Mondays go—two successful surgeries, and no run-ins with April or Meredith. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine," she replies sullenly. Lexie nods, knowing that's only a code for 'this is the worst day of my life to date.' She quickly looks over the girl's chart before shutting it and catching Martha Elder's eye across the room. The older woman sighs as if to say, _Well, what can we do?_ Lexie gives her a sympathetic smile. _She was fine and happy yesterday, _Lexie reminds herself, _this mood will pass exactly like all the others do. Just deal with it for now._

"Okay," she sighs empathetically. "Tell me what's bothering you now."

"I can't feel my damn arm," Lauren complains.

"Lauren," Martha warns.

"Fine. I can't feel my _dang _arm," Lauren corrects, even more annoyed than before as she shoots her mother a dark look.

"You know the only way to fix that is to go to therapy," Lexie reminds the young girl patiently as she takes a seat on her left side. "I saw you working on it just last week. You were doing well, what happened with that?"

"It doesn't help," Lauren mutters.

"All right, well…" Lexie leans forward, studying her patient's transplanted limb. "Let me see if we have any problems." Lexie runs both her hands up and down the girl's arm, inspecting the transplant site. Just as she expected, everything was in order. She's about to remind her patient about the necessity of putting all her energy towards therapy when the young girl speaks up first.

"Where's your ring?" She asks quietly.

"What?" Lexie asks, feeling her heartbeat quicken reflexively. She closes her eyes for a second, having to mentally remind herself that there aren't any secrets anymore. _A misplaced wedding ring is no longer a problem. _There's nothing to hide. He already knows.

"You're not wearing it…" Lauren notes, glancing up at her doctor. "Did something happen…?"

"Lauren," her mother chastises harshly. "Stop it."

"She doesn't have to answer if she doesn't want to, Mom," Lauren snaps. "God."

"It's okay," Lexie replies easily, trying to cool things off between mother and daughter. "I, um, I got divorced recently." She looks up, putting a smile on her face. She lifts her left hand. "So that's why there's no ring."

"Oh my," Martha murmurs.

"I'm sorry," Lauren apologizes immediately, looking up as her doctor gets to her feet. "Dr. Grey, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to… I mean, I just thought you lost it or something. I had no idea—"

"No, it's fine," Lexie interrupts, waving her off. "It was, um, it was mutual."

"It was?"

"_Lauren,_" her mother repeats. She stares at her daughter. "Please stay out of Dr. Grey's personal life."

Lexie gives them both a small smile. "Well," she says, scribbling quickly in the girl's chart and changing the subject. "You're looking okay for today. But you have to keep up on your therapy, okay? You were doing great last week." She forces a cheerful smile, directing it at her patient. "Don't lose hope now, okay? You have a long way to go and you have to stay motivated."

Without another word, Lexie disappears out the exam room door and doesn't look back. She takes deep, calming breaths, and tries to remind herself that it doesn't matter. _She's a child, _she tells herself. _She's a child and she had no idea what she was asking._

. . .

Mark Sloan is sitting in an empty radiology lab, immersing himself in a chart of one of his more complicated patient's when he hears his name being called. When he looks up, though, he realizes no one is looking for him. Instead, two interns he vaguely remembers being named Christine and Paul are talking about him. From the inappropriate dialogue they're sharing, he's one hundred percent sure they don't know he's within earshot.

"But how long is it going to last, is what I'm wondering," Paul is wondering aloud "Sloan's like a total player, and I heard that Dr. Grey didn't used to be that much better before she got with Avery."

"Well, she obviously didn't change," Christine replies, "if she was sleeping with another guy while they were married."

"True."

There's a pause, and Mark's about to get up and make his presence known, but the girl speaks before he can make a move. "I mean, come _on_, though," she says, obviously exasperated. "This won't last! It _can't_. She left Avery; fine. She'll stick around for a couple months, and then when she gets bored—which she _will_—she'll go back where she belongs. That's what always happens. I mean—" The girl laughs mockingly "—when have you ever heard of someone _actually _sticking with the person they screwed around with during a marriage? Never, because it doesn't happen. This is just a fling, and it'll be over with when one of them gets bored and moves on."

"You mean when one of them catches the other with someone else," Paul sniggers, causing Christine to laugh.

"That, too," she grins. "Well, I wonder, though… Who do you think will be first? Her or him?"

"Hm," Paul mutters. "I don't know. It depends, I guess." He grins back. "Who's the bigger whore, the adulterous wife or the guy she fucked during her marriage?"

Christine laughs. "Hard to say. What do you think?"

Paul ponders for a moment before replying resolutely. "It'll be her. Definitely her."

"Really?" Christine asks, intrigued. "You think she'd sleep around first?"

"Well, she already has, hasn't she? It was with him, but still… Plus, you don't just go through a divorce and not look back. Her and Avery will probably run into each in a month or two other and one thing will lead to another…" He trails off suggestively, meeting his colleague's gaze. "She'll be back in Portland before the year is out."

"You may be right…"

"So do you think he'll go after her when she leaves?" Paul asks. He smirks. "Maybe there'll be a showdown, and whoever comes out alive gets the girl."

"Oh, please." Christine rolls her eyes. "No one's going to fight over _her_."

"So? It would still be funny—"

"Kids," a voice interrupts. The interns almost jump out of their skin when they turn to see who's speaking. Mark offers them a wry grin, watching with amusement as their eyes grow wide like saucers as the blood drains from their faces. "As entertaining as you little narrative is, you might want to get some of your facts straight before you pass on this compelling story."

"We—we—we weren't going to—"

Mark waves a hand. "Oh, no need to trouble yourself with lies," he smiles. "I've been sitting three feet away from you for some time now. I heard everything, so none of us has to bother pretending otherwise."

"D—Dr. Sloan," the girl stutters, "we weren't—"

"Again," he replies happily, "don't bother lying." His eyes narrow a second later, and his dangerously dark gaze settles on the two interns. "Just so you know, though the next time I hear you talking shit about me and _my_ life, I'll have you kicked out of this program before you can say 'medical student.'"

"We—we won't, I swear, we—"

"Listen," Mark cuts in, turning to the female intern who just tried to interject. "I've lied a lot in my life, so trust me when I say that you aren't too good at it." He turns to the male intern. "Don't let me see either of your faces again."

They both nod, and he pushes them away with a hand on each of their shoulders. They turn their heads for one last look as he knew they would, and when their terrified eyes meet his, Mark stares right back.

"And if I _ever _hear that you spoke like that in front of Dr. Grey, I will _personally _tell Chief Webber that neither of you belong at Seattle Grace—nor any other hospital in a fifty-mile radius, for that matter."

"You can't—" The girl begins to protest before her companion elbows her into silence.

Mark steps forward, smiling menacingly at the young woman. "Oh, really? You think I can't? You think I _won't_?" He smiles widens and he leans forward. "Well, why don't you go ahead and _try. Me." _He grins when she grows even paler."Come on, it'll be fun," he grins. "Let's see how quickly I can smash your career before it's even begun."

"We—we won't," Christine stammers, finding her voice again. "We—um, it was a joke. I promise we won't say anything. To anyone. Ever."

"Oh, yes, it was a joke, hm? And that makes it all better?"

"I just meant that it didn't mean anything!" She replies, desperate to appease him.

Mark narrows his eyes. "Didn't it, though?" He asks with a puzzled frown.

"No," Paul cuts in quickly. "No, it didn't mean anything. I swear."

Mark shifts his gaze to the other intern, watching as the pale-faced kid shakes his head rapidly back and forth to accentuate his point. "Good," Mark mutters. "And if I hear you two talking like this again, to anyone… Well," he smiles, stepping away. "I do have the Chief of Surgery on speed dial, if you were curious."

. . .

A few floors away, Lexie Grey is dealing with her day's developments a lot less calmly. All it took was one backward glance from her sister, and then her shouts are echoing throughout the resident's longue.

"Fine, you know what!" Lexie yells, striding up to her sister and shutting the door before the elder Grey can leave. "Just _say it!_ Just say it, Meredith,and be done!"

Meredith stares at her sister in shock. "Say what?" She manages. Her eyes fly around the longue, but the two sisters are alone. "What… What are you talking about?"

"I know you hate me," Lexie replies angrily. "I know you hate seeing me and Mark together, I know you wish I would go back to Portland, and I know you're thinking of ways to get rid of me, but I'm not _going _anywhere, Meredith! I'm not going to leave, and no amount of dirty looks or complaints to Derek is going to change that!" She takes a breath, filling her lungs. "So just stop brooding in silence and say you hate me_ to my face. _Say it and leave me alone. Get it all off your chest."

"Lexie," Meredith replies slowly. "I… have no idea what you're talking about."

Lexie cross her arms, sighing in exasperation. "Enough tiptoeing around it, okay? Let's just get it all over with now and stop pretending we were ever meant to be in each other's lives." Meredith's eyes widen in genuine shock. "Tell me I'm a horrible human being," Lexie suggests. "Tell me I ruined Jackson's life, tell me I ruined my own life—_tell me _and_ leave me the hell alone._"

Meredith stares at her enraged half-sister for a silent half a minute before relenting. "Okay, fine," she mutters. "You want to hear it? Then, yes, I _thought_ you ruined your life… _Yes, _I _thought_ you ruined Jackson's life… And _yes_, I _thought_ you were a horrible human being." She stares at her sister. "But Lexie, I don't…" She stares at her sister, shaking her head in quiet confusion. "Lexie, I don't thinkany of that anymore."

Lexie's forehead creases, and her eyebrows draw together as she tries to process all of this. A confused "What?" is all she can manage after a few seconds of tense silence.

"Lexie…" The blonde almost smiles. "I did think all of that, at one time or another…But that time is gone now. And I've… God, Lexie, I've never actually _hated _you." She stares at her sister in disbelief, as if to ask, _You really thought I hated you?_

Lexie's expression only grows more confused. "But I thought… I mean, I came home to live with Mark and—and you wouldn't speak to me… And now, still, you won't say a word. You just stare at me and walk away."

"Lexie, I was furious with you when you came back, sure, but… You thought that meant I _hated_ you?" Meredith wonders in disbelief. "You think I hate you now?"

"Me, Mark and I… I thought you just hated everything to do with me, everything about me." She takes a breath, looking away for a moment. Meredith takes her time before speaking.

"Lexie, what is this really about?" She asks softly.

"Af—After everything with Jackson, I… I was just looking forward to coming home," Lexie half-whispers. Meredith watches in rapt confusion as the fury covering the brunette's face fades as quickly as it appeared. All that's left is a quiet sadness. "I didn't think you'd welcome me with open arms, exactly, but I thought… I don't know, I thought you'd at least _welcome _me. I thought we might at least be civil to each other. Maybe we'd have dinner after a few days, just to clear the air…" Lexie covers her face with her hands, turning away in embarrassment. "God, I'm such an idiot," she mutters dejectedly. "It's like I'm still twenty-four. I'm still wanting, still waiting for you to love me."

"Lexie," Meredith calls softly. It takes her a few seconds, but eventually the younger Grey removes her hands and looks up. Her sister is standing so much closer than before, only a foot away. "Lexie," Meredith smiles sadly. She reaches out tentatively to put a hand on her sister's arm. "Of course I love you. You're my sister, come on, you have to know that I'll love you whatever you do."

Lexie's feels her pulse race in disbelief. _What?_ "But—after what happened—"

"Look, I'm not Jackson, okay?" She gives her sister a small smile. "He has reason to hate you, sure, but me… I'm your sister. I have to love you."

"Oh, so loving me is an obligation, now, is it?" Lexie jokes weakly, feeling like laughing in relief.

Meredith gives her a small smile. "Not at all," she replies seriously.

"Oh, Mer, I…" She trails off, looking away quickly and wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry," she mutters, sniffing. "I had no idea that this—this would happen. I thought…" She looks back to her sister. "I thought we'd be on fighting terms forever."

"Well, that…" Meredith glances down, embarrassed. "That was mostly my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lexie replies. "I yelled just as much as you did."

"Yeah, but that's because I was forcing you out of your home," Meredith replies. "At least you had a reason to fight. I was just…" She trails off, shaking her head.

"What?" Lexie asks after a moment, intrigued. "You had to have a reason, too, or this all wouldn't have happened."

"Does self-loathing count as a reason?" Meredith questions after a few quiet seconds.

Lexie's eyebrows knit together. "What are you talking about?" She asks, confused.

"The reason I was mad at you…" Meredith sighs. "Do remember when you said I had an obligation?" Meredith asks. "You said that since I knew about you and Mark for all those years, I should have told Jackson, or I should have talked to you or Mark about what was going on…"

Lexie nods slowly, wondering where this is going.

"Lexie…" Meredith stares at her sister. "Do you have any idea how many hours I've spent wrestling with that decision? A hundred times, I thought about telling Jackson. A hundred times, I thought about making Derek confront Mark. But thousands… _Thousands _of times I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to _help _you, Lexie, because I knew you were lost, but I had absolutely _no_ idea what to do or where to start. At first—you're right—I was angry. At first, I just wanted to shake you and demand to know what the hell you thought you were doing… But then you kept doing it. Year after year, I'd hear you get up in the middle of the night, I'd hear you drive away…" Meredith rubs her face tiredly with her right hand. "I even followed you, a time or two…"

Lexie feels her mouth run dry. "What?" She manages to croak.

Meredith catches her sister's eye with a guilty expression. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "Lexie, I'm sorry, but I… God, I didn't know what to do," Meredith explains desperately. "I kept telling myself it was only sex, just casual and meaningless, and that you only did it with Mark because…" She cracks a tiny smile. "Well, he's Mark." She takes a breath, growing serious again. "Or I kept telling myself it wasn't anything, that for some reason you just felt like taking midnight drives. But then I followed you once, just to find out, just to see…" Meredith swallows. "I just wanted proof that you were sleeping with him. I just wanted to know that my hunches were true so that I'd have a clear idea of what I was dealing with when I went to Jackson or when I confronted you. But when I got there…" Meredith stares at her sister in quiet disbelief. "Lexie, you two weren't even _kissing._ I could see you through the window—you were barely _touching_, you two were _watching TV, _for Christ's sake."

"How…" Lexie licks her lips. "How long were you there?" She whispers.

Meredith looks away. "Long enough to see you fall asleep in his arms."

"Mer…"

"I'd never seen anyone treat you so gently," Meredith continues, her voice almost inaudible. "He picked you up, carried you to bed…" Meredith shakes her head. "And somehow I knew you two didn't sleep together that night. Somehow I knew it was… It was something more than sex, that it meant something. And when I saw you the next morning, I knew I was right. I saw the difference with my own eyes. You were happier than the day before. You looked well rested, even though I knew you were up almost the entire night. And I…" Meredith closes her eyes for a brief moment. "I knew I couldn't confront you about it. I knew I couldn't tell Jackson. I'd be lying if I said I tried, because I _didn't_." Lexie hears hatred enter her sister's tone for a moment, but she knows now that its directly inward. "After I saw you two together, it was like everything fell into place and I realized—you two never stopped loving each other. You went and married someone else, but he still waited for you. And you could have left him behind when you moved, but you made a concentrated effort to come back. You made an effort, risky as it was, to go to his apartment every night, to… To…"

"To pretend," Lexie finishes for her quietly. Meredith stares at her in silence. "We were pretending, that's what we were doing." She takes a shaky breath, trying to remind herself that everything is different now. "We both knew it was hopeless. Months passed, and years, but still, I…" Lexie swallows roughly. "I couldn't leave him, do you understand that? Whenever we were apart, I… I never felt like myself. I never felt whole until I was with him. I—I love him, Mer." Her dark brown eyes plead with her sister to try to understand. "Do you have any idea how much I love him?"

Meredith shakes her head, but Lexie can tell her sister isn't refuting her words. Lexie watches her sister nod her head a few times, and she wonders if Meredith is, in fact, agreeing with her. "I'm… so sorry I disowned you over this," Meredith apologizes in a hushed whisper. She meets her sister's eyes. "I'm so sorry I punished you just for being in love."

"Mer, I…" Lexie shakes her head, biting her lip. She can't find the words. She can't even find the syllables. She realizes there's only one thing she can do, and without wasting another second, she steps forward and hugs her sister tight.

It only takes a half-second for Meredith to hug back. "I'm sorry," the elder Grey whispers immediately. "I'm—so sorry."

"Me too."

They both pull away after a couple seconds, and Lexie wipes her eyes quickly before taking a deep breath. "Mark told me to talk to you," Lexie says, "but I didn't think it would amount to anything."

Meredith gives her sister a small smile. "He's a smart guy, that Mark."

Lexie shrugs. "He has his moments," she replies indifferently. She smiles a second later, and the sister share a quiet laugh.

"Well, I'm glad you listened and talked to me," Meredith tells her. "Or, well, yelled at me, I guess."

Lexie smiles apologetically. "Sorry. I've just been so on edge since everything's happened. First with Jackson, then with you…" She lifts her hands to rub her face. "My patient from Portland asked me where my wedding ring was this morning…" Meredith grimaces sympathetically and Lexie exhales tiredly. "And April, _god_…"

"She still giving you trouble?"

Lexie shakes her head. "So she exploded at me in the middle of the hall… And now she won't stop trying to apologize. I've been blowing her off because, to borrow a phrase, she's a bitch, but… God, she won't leave me alone."

"Well…" Meredith catches her sister's eye. "Maybe you should try listening to her next time." Lexie stares at her, letting an amused smile grace her lips. It disappears a second later when Meredith raises her eyebrows.

"Wait, you're serious," Lexie states.

"I think she might have a few interesting things to say," Meredith replies.

"Is there a reason you're being so cryptic?" Lexie questions.

"Just… Look," Meredith smiles, "next time she tries to talk to you, listen to her, okay?"

"Fine," Lexie surrenders. "I'll hear her out. But if she calls me a bitch _one more time_…"

Meredith chuckles. She's about to head back out into the hallway when she stops. "Hey," she calls, turning around. Lexie looks up at her voice.

"Yeah?"

"You mentioned dinner?" Meredith asks. Lexie's face shows no recognition. "You said you wanted to have dinner with me to clear everything up," she reminds her sister.

"Oh," Lexie replies. "Right." She smiles sheepishly. "I guess we kind of already cleared it all up."

"I guess," Meredith agrees. "But…" She shrugs. "I don't know about you, but all this fighting has really taken it out of me. Plus, I might need a refresher. What are you and Mark doing later this week?" She asks with a smile.

. . .

_7.30 PM_

. . .

"Lex?" Mark calls later that night as he steps into the apartment.

"Hey," Lexie calls, walking out to meet him. "How was your day?"

"Fine," Mark replies. He forces his confrontation with the interns out of his mind, turning his frown into a smile. When he looks over to find his girlfriend, he discovers her standing right in front of him, a giant smile on her face and an apron tied around her waist. He smiles crookedly at her. "So, what's going on here?" He asks, looking pointedly at her new article of clothing.

She grins. "I'm making dinner for my boyfriend." She leans forward to kiss him quickly.

"Hm. You are, are you?" He asks quietly before seeking out her lips again. Lexie smiles, kissing him back for a few seconds before placing a light hand on his chest and pushing him away.

"I have things to cook," she tells him, heading off to the kitchen. Mark shakes his head, chuckling to himself, before following after her. He finds he's grinning when he takes a seat at the counter—her newfound happiness is infectious.

"What's got into you?" He asks, watching as she hums tunelessly while stirring a variety of pots and pans on the stove.

Lexie glances over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"You're happy," Mark replies bluntly. "_Really _happy. And I want to know why." He stares at her, curious. "What happened today?"

Lexie grins to herself, but keeps her back to him. "I will make you a deal," she proposes after a moment, turning around to face him. "I will tell you why I'm so happy if you tell me what happened between you and two first-years today."

Mark narrows his eyes about her. "You heard about that?"

Lexie smirks. "I heard a girl crying in the bathroom," Lexie replies. "When I asked her what was wrong, she told me the head of Plastics was going to kick her out of the program she'd spent three years trying to get into."

"And?"

"And I assured her you didn't have anything close to that amount of clout with the Chief."

"_Lex,_" Mark groans loudly. "Come _on_. What are you trying to do, sabotage my power?"

Lexie laughs. "What power? And what did she do to you, anyway?"

Mark waves a hand dismissively. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then I guess you won't get to find out why I'm so happy."

He shrugs, getting to his feet and walking about the counter. "As long as you stay happy, I don't think I really care what caused it."

Lexie looks over to him, arching her eyebrows with a smile. "You sure about that?"

"Mmhm," Mark replies, reaching out and resting his hands on her waist. "Plus," he adds, resting his head on her shoulder. "I already know why you're happy."

Lexie turns her head to meet his eyes. "You do?"

Mark grins, leaning forward to kiss her. "Of course," he murmurs between kisses. "It's because of me."

Lexie laughs, pecking his lips quickly before pulling back and stepping out of his light grip on her hips. "Right, okay."

"Was that sarcasm, Grey?"

She smiles, refusing to reply, and turns back to her cooking. A few seconds later, she feels his hands encircle her waist once more. She resolves to ignore his advances, but once his lips settle on the curve of her neck and upper back, kissing soft and seductive trails across her exposed skin, she turns around.

"Mark," she mutters, "stop it. I need to focus."

He grins. "So do I. Your damn cooking is getting in the way."

"I'm making you dinner," Lexie points out indignantly.

"I didn't ask for dinner," Mark replies, using his grip on her hips to pull her closer. Lexie glares at him, as if the determined look in her eyes might stop him. "So let's just skip it," he murmurs, wrapping an arm around her back and stepping forward until their bodies are pressed together and their lips are just inches apart.

Lexie takes a deep breath to calm herself, but instead of focusing on getting him to back off, she feels drawn even closer. She closes her eyes, breathing him in, and feels her body and lips stretch towards his almost involuntarily. She can practically hear her own sigh of relief when his mouth dips down to meet hers. His lips are gentle, probing, and most importantly, _distracting_—in just one heartbeat, he's reached down and hefted her into his arms. Her eyes grow wide and her lips break from his as she feels herself fall—just for a second—before he's lifted her up into his arms.

"_Mark_," Lexie screeches in surprise, hitting his back as he drapes her body over his shoulder. "Put me _down! Right now!_"

"No way," Mark replies calmly. "You're coming to bed with me, let's go."

"The stove," Lexie protests lamely, holding out an arm towards it longingly as he carries her across the room. "There will be a fire if I don't…"

"I turned off the stove," Mark replies with a smile, setting her on her feet in the doorway of their bedroom. Lexie opens her mouth to speak, perhaps to stage another only half-serious protest, but before she can, his lips crash onto hers. She moans almost immediately at his touch, automatically arching her back towards him. His hands draw her away from the wooden doorframe and against the familiar planes of his body in half of a heartbeat. It seems like only seconds pass before they have to break away, panting, for air.

"You turned off the stove?" Lexie clarifies breathlessly, her eyes alight.

Mark nods, and a second later, Lexie's wrapping her arms around his neck and leveraging herself to jump up into his arms. He catches her easily, hugging her close as they stand in the doorway. "So what are we waiting for, then?" She grins, slamming her lips to his. Lexie can feel his light rumbles of laughter through the kiss , and she grins in silent satisfaction as they stumble towards the bed.

. . .

_Author's Note: Please review! I'd love to know how this chapter went over with all of you :)_


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28:**

_Author's Note: Thank you all for your reviews :) Sorry it's taken a while to update, I've been addicted to my AU-Mark/Lexie story, which some of you have seen. Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter; it picks up a few hours after the last one ended._

. . .

"So are you going to tell me what happened?" Lexie asks, looking over her shoulder.

"What are you talking about?" Mark replies. Lexie rolls over to get a good look at him before speaking. He's lying back against the pillows in their bed with one arm slung over his head.

"Those two kids you unleashed on," Lexie explains. She watches as his face twitches. "Why'd you get so mad?"

"Because they were talking about things they know nothing about," Mark replies. "And I felt the need to discipline them."

"You mean you felt the need to terrify them," Lexie corrects. She stares at him until he opens his eyes. "What were they talking about that made you so mad?"

Mark stares at her, debating what to say. "Nothing," he finally settles on. "They weren't talking about anything."

"Mark," Lexie mutters disapprovingly. She knows he's hiding the truth, and her lips curve in a faint smile as she attempts to coax it out of him. "What was it?"

He holds her gaze steadily, and a few seconds later, the smile disappears from his face as she realizes what topic he had been trying to avoid. "Oh," she says quietly, glancing down.

"Yeah," Mark replies with a tired sigh, dropping his arm back to his side.

"You could have just ignored it," Lexie suggests, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder lightly.

He shakes his head 'no.' "I was sitting right behind them."

"Well, what did they say, exactly?"

He sighs, looking away. "Nothing. They were just talking shit."

Lexie stares at him, speaking softly. "Will you please just tell me?"

Mark holds her gaze for a long time before finally speaking. "They were debating which of us would sleep with someone else first," he answers reluctantly. "They…were sure it would be you." He stares at her with worried dark eyes, hoping this news won't bring her previous happiness to a sharp end.

But Lexie surprises him by laughing. "God," she chuckles. "Is that all people think I _do,_ or something?" She shakes her head with a smile. "Can't these kids be a bit more creative?"

"It wasn't just you they were talking about," Mark reminds her, his voice and expression still dark.

"Well, so?" She laughs quietly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. "I know for a fact that you haven't and won't sleep with anyone else… And if you're curious about me, I have been completely dedicated to you since the night I said I'd leave him." Her voice lowers seriously as she stares at him. "I have not been with anyone else and I never will be with anyone else, okay?"

He nods.

"I'm here to stay, okay?" She smiles. "So get used to the fact that _this_ is it."

Mark smirks slightly, leaning forward to kiss her. He rolls over her when the kiss deepens, pressing their naked bodies against each other's.

"And don't underestimate me," she adds when he pulls back momentarily. She grins up at him, burrowing her hands in his hair. "I can be faithful when I when I feel like it."

. . .

"Is dinner still salvageable?" Mark yawns as he gets to his feet and searches for the clothes they'd strew around the room hours earlier.

"It's almost ten, Mark," Lexie mumbles tiredly from the bed.

He looks over to her, letting a small smile grace his lips when he sees her spread out comfortably in his bed. Her hands are tucked around a pillow supporting her face and her calves are tangled in the red sheets, which had been pushed to the far end of the bed sometime around eight o'clock.

"Exactly," he replies after a moment. "Time for dinner."

"But I'd rather stay here," Lexie replies, burying her head into the pillow.

"Would you like me to carry you to the table?"

He watches for a few seconds as her shoulders shake in quiet laughter. A moment later, she sits up with a yawn. He tosses her shirt and underwear at her. "What, you don't want to watch me cook in the nude?" She grins, pulling them on and getting to her feet.

"I'd prefer to eat," he replies, heading to the kitchen, "and if you aren't wearing clothes that'll never happen." He looks around at the multitude of dishes that were left on the stove, walking over to inspect them. "I think we'll have to heat up some leftover pizza or something," Mark notes, scrunching his nose at the congealed rice and uncooked fish. Lexie appears at his side, sighing in annoyance.

"If you hadn't interrupted my cooking process," she informs him, "we would have already eaten a wonderful dinner."

He grins, glancing at her sidelong. "I had other hungers."

She rolls her eyes. "Isn't that obvious," she mutters with fake disapproval, reaching forward to move the soured dishes to the sink. Mark joins her, studying each item and they scrape them down the disposal.

"You were cooking like six different things," he notes. "What were you practicing for? Iron Chef?"

Lexie laughs. "No. But, uh, you were wondering why I was happy before?"

He turns his head to look at her.

"Meredith and Derek are going to come over for dinner on Friday."

Mark raises his eyebrows in shock. "They are?"

"Mmhm," Lexie nods, depositing the last of the dishes in the sink. "Can you wash those? I'll get the leftovers."

Mark runs the water, depositing some soap on a sponge, as he asks, "So when did this happen?"

"Yesterday afternoon," Lexie replies, turning on the oven and putting the leftover slices of pizza inside. She joins him by the sink with a rag, drying each clean dish as it's passed to her. "We got into an argument."

"And it ended with a dinner invitation?"

Lexie smiles. "It did."

By the time she finishes retelling her long conversation with Meredith, they've washed and dried all the dishes. They stand next to each other, leaning against the kitchen counter. "So," Lexie finishes, "her and Derek and going to come over Friday, and that's why I had this whole dinner planned out. You were going to be my test subject."

"Sorry," he replies. "I'm sure it would have been great."

Lexie grins, stretching on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Don't worry about it. I welcomed the distraction."

He catches her eye, smiling. "I'm glad you made up with your sister."

"Me too," Lexie replies, just as the oven beeps, announcing that their late dinner has finished heating up.

. . .

_Wednesday_

. . .

"Hey, Dr. Grey?" Lauren calls hesitantly, watching as her doctor heads to the door. She turns around at the sound of her name, stopping just before leaving.

"Yeah, Lauren?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Lexie nods, and feeling that this might be an important conversation, takes a seat next to her patient again. "Sure."

It takes the girl a few moments to speak, and when she does, the words that come out of her mouth are anything but what Lexie had expected. "Why'd you get divorced?"

Lexie exhales quietly, looking over her shoulder to make sure that the girl's mother isn't returning. "That isn't really an appropriate topic, Lauren," she replies when she faces her patient again.

"I'm just wondering," Lauren whispers, "because it's…" She pauses, taking a breath. "It's always just been me and my mom—I have no idea who or where my dad is. And I've always wondered why he left. I was about four when they split, and I—I can barely remember him. I haven't asked my mom because she never wants to talk about it, but I… I want to know. Was it—was it my arm? Did he not like seeing his daughter be turned into a cripple?"

"Lauren," Lexie says softly.

"I've never known the reason he left," the girl whispers, "but if… if it was over me, I don't understand, because I've gotten better. I mean, I have an arm now. It doesn't work, but it's better than nothing, right?" Lexie nods sympathetically. "And the—the reason I asked you, is just because I wanted to know if… You—you wouldn't have left Dr. Avery over a disfigured kid, would you?"

Lexie sighs quietly. She takes a few moments before deciding to tell the young girl the truth. "I left because there was someone else," she replies eventually.

Lauren's eyes widen immediately. "There was? Oh, god, I'm _so sorry_, Dr. Grey. I had no idea. If—if I knew it was something like that, I never would have asked—"

"You're apologizing to the wrong person," Lexie informs her quietly.

"Wh—what?"

"It was me."

It takes Lauren a few minutes to process this. Finally, though, understanding dawns on her face. "You... _You_ were with someone else?"

Lexie nods, looking away. In shock, it takes Lauren a moment before she can speak.

"Did you love him? The other guy? Is that why you…" She whispers the word, as if it were cursed. "Cheated?"

Lexie's eyes flicker to her patient's. "I still do," she replies quietly. "I still love him."

"You're—with him now?"

"Yes."

"I... Dr. Grey, I… I don't know what to say."

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell your mother," Lexie replies with a half-smile. "I think her approval rating of me would plummet to unseen lows."

"But you're a good doctor—"

"That isn't always the first thing people see." She nods to her patient, remembering when she only had a disfigured stump for a left arm. "You know that, don't you?"

Lauren nods, looking down, as Lexie gets to her feet. She's about to leave when she turns around again. "I think you should ask your mom." Lauren looks up. "I think you should ask your mom," Lexie repeats. "If you tell her what you told me, maybe she'll understand why you keep asking her. If she only thought you were pressing the matter for no reason, well, I'm not surprised she didn't tell you. But if you make her see that you need to know, I'm sure she'll tell you."

The young girl nods slowly. "Okay."

"And Lauren?" Lexie calls. "I seriously doubt the problems between your parents were because of you."

. . .

"Lexie?"

Hearing her name called softly near the end of the day, Lexie turns around, expecting to find her patient's mother worrying after her. But when she looks over her shoulder, April Kepner is standing there, staring after her.

Lexie stares at her for a minute before replying, none too kindly, "What is it, April?"

"I…" April glances away for a second, walking closer and meeting her by the nurses' station. "Look, I wanted to talk to you before you left, if I could…"

Lexie sighs loudly, ready to blow her off again, before remembering what Meredith told her. _Next time she tries to talk to you, just listen to her, okay?_ "Fine," Lexie mutters after a few seconds. "Can we do it here, or do we have to conduct out conversations in soundproof rooms again?"

April almost smiles. "You know just as well as I do that the on-call rooms aren't soundproof."

Lexie raises her eyebrows, surprising them both by laughing. "All right then," she replies. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I… I wanted to apologize."

"For calling me a bitch?" Lexie questions politely.

"For doing it in the middle of the hallway," April replies. She stares at her old coworker for a moment. "You deserved to be called a bitch, you deserved everything I said…"

"Maybe just not so publicly?" Lexie guesses.

April nods, slightly chagrined. "Yeah." She sighs. "I was… Things are hard right now, for everyone, and I'm sorry I exploded like that where everyone could hear. It was nowhere near professional."

"Well…" Lexie's lips turn up in a small smile. "Thanks, April."

"Right."

Lexie stares at the trauma surgeon, watching as she fiddles nervously with her hands. "Is there something else?"

"What?" April asks, her eyes flying up.

Lexie smiles slightly. "What's going on that's got you so nervous?"

April looks away, closing her eyes momentarily. "You don't want to know," she whispers.

Lexie stares at her, chuckling slightly to break the awkward tension. _So this is what Meredith was talking about. What is she hiding? _"Well, if you don't want to tell me, no pressure. I just wanted to know if I could—"

"I'm dating Jackson," April blurts. Her hand flies to her mouth a split-second after the words leave her lips, and her eyes widen with something akin to terror.

"You're…" Lexie struggles to grasp the concept. It takes her a few seconds to put it all together. "You're…sleeping with my ex-husband?"

April blushes. "Well, we—we haven't…" She glances to the side. "We haven't quite… _gotten there _yet. We're just…" She takes a quick breath. "We kissed once. And—and when you guys were getting divorced, well, you were with Sloan and he…"

"Wanted to get back at me with you?" Lexie guesses.

"No," April replies defiantly. "It wasn't like that."

"_Right_," Lexie says sarcastically, failing to hold back a laugh. "I'm sure it wasn't like that."

"It _wasn't, _okay?" April snaps. "Once, sure, but after you guys went back to Portland—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lexie cuts in, holding up a hand. "You were sleeping with him while we were still married?"

"We just kissed!" April replies before she can stop herself. "Once!" A second later, her gaze narrows to a glare. "And how dare you try to judge me for that, after what you did to him."

"April," Lexie cuts in with a laugh. "I'm not judging you. I'm just…" She shakes her head with a smile. "Honestly, I'm… I'm happy he's moved on. I didn't think it would be so fast…" She shrugs. "But, hey. Whatever works."

"We—we're not really _romantically _together," April hedges her. "We're just kind of… friends. He needed someone to talk to, and…well…"

"And you made yourself available," Lexie replies. April stares at her, waiting for the other woman's anger to show. It doesn't. "That's, uh…" Lexie smiles. "You know, that's good. I'm sure he needs someone." She stares at the trauma surgeon for a silent minute before nodding resolutely and, seeing the conversation finished, stepping away.

"Lexie?" April call hesitantly. Lexie stops, turning to look at the other woman, watching as her eyes fill with worry.

"Lexie, I… I think I might…" She closes her eyes momentarily, unable to look the other woman in the eye. "I think I might be in love with him."

Lexie stares at her. "And what am I supposed to do about that?"

"You…" April opens her eyes, puzzled. "You aren't jealous? You don't want him back?"

"April, _I _divorced _him_."

"Yeah, I know that, but I thought…"

Lexie smiles. "Look," she begins, "Jackson's a fantastic guy. I… I know that better than anyone. But he wasn't…" She sighs quietly. "He wasn't what I wanted, or needed, okay? So if you want to be with him, you're free to do that." She stares at the other woman. "But just don't do so thinking that it will drive me wild with jealousy."

"That isn't why I'm doing it."

Lexie nods. "Okay. Good, then." They stand in silence for a moment before Lexie turns around to leave. April doesn't stop her this time, but as she starts to walk away, she forces herself to turn around. "April?" The surgeon turns around; she'd been walking away too. "Can I ask you a favor?" Lexie wonders quietly. April nods. "I know I have… absolutely _no _right to request this of you, but… Just please don't hurt him, okay?"

"I wouldn't," April replies seriously.

Lexie gives her small smile. "Okay," she replies before heading to the exit.

. . .

"So I had to explain to my fifteen-year-old patient why I got divorced today," Lexie calls by way of greeting as she lets herself into the apartment.

Mark cringes, grabbing a glass from the shelf for her. "You didn't tell her why, did you?"

"I had to, Mark," Lexie frowns.

"Why?" He asks, pouring her a glass of wine. "I have booze, by the way."

"Oh, _yay_," Lexie replies gratefully, turning into the kitchen only to stop when she sees him. "That is just what I…"

"What?"

"You're _cooking_."

"So? I can cook," he replies, holding out the glass to her. "Come on, take it, I have things to stir."

"Not as I recall," Lexie replies, taking the glass and nursing her drink worriedly. She examines the stove with a wary expression.

"Dinner will be fine," Mark assures her, examining the various pots on the stove before turning around. "Okay," he says, looking at her. "Tell me why you had to explain to your patient why you were divorced."

"She and her mother switched hospitals for me, Mark. They left _Portland _for me. I felt like I owed her something."

"So you thought you'd even the score by telling her your life story?" Mark smiles.

"Well… I don't know. I just felt like she deserved to know. Plus, she's a good kid."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she won't make the mistakes I did."

"_Meaning_?" Mark presses.

"Oh, calm down," Lexie tells him, walking around the counter to meet him by the stove. "You're not a mistake," she says, tilting her head upwards to meet his eyes as her lips seek his. "You know you're not."

"I know I'm not," Mark repeats, ducking down to kiss her. Lexie sighs into the kiss, stepping forward to press her body against his. Mark smiles slightly at the contact, placing a hand on the nape of her neck to deepen the kiss. Lexie hums appreciatively, letting her hands run down the front of his shirt. "Mm, Mark," she murmurs, trailing her lips from his mouth to his neck. "Why did you make dinner?" She whispers as she places kisses along his jaw.

"You were going to do it for me," he replies, closing his eyes. "I thought I'd return the favor."

He can feel her grin against his skin before she pulls back. She reaches up, pulling him close as she rests her hands on the back of his neck. "Does this mean I get to interrupt you and drag you off to bed, too?" She whispers with a smile.

Mark grins, stepping closer. "You're more than welcome to, if you'd like."

Lexie kisses him quickly before pulling back with a wide grin. "No, I'd much rather like to watch you cook."

Mark frowns at her, easily realizing what she's doing. "This is punishment, now, isn't it?"

Lexie shrugs, stepping back and hopping up onto the island. Her legs dangle over the side as she picks up her glass of wine and takes a small sip to hide her grin. "Maybe," she replies ambiguously.

"You're choosing dinner over the chance to take me to bed," Mark mutters as he turns back to the food. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lexie laughs, reaching out with her long legs to wrap her ankles around his hips. Mark steps backwards until he's standing against the island. Her legs are bent at the knee and cross over his midsection.

"Hi," she whispers, resting her head on his shoulder.

Mark turns his had to the left to catch her eye. "Hey," he smiles.

"Do you really wanna go to bed?" She asks softly, pressing her chin against his shoulder.

He smiles, closing his eyes for a second as his lips seek out hers. "No, I'm fine right here, actually."

"Good," Lexie replies. She lets go of him a second later, uncrossing her legs and releasing him to go where he pleases. He only moves to turn around to face her.

"So what else happened today?"

"Not much," Lexie replies. "Oh," she adds after a moment, "I did find out why April

hates me, though."

Mark smirks. "Lex, I could've told you that."

"_She _has been sleeping with my husband," Lexie informs him. "Oh, no, sorry," she continues. "'_Talking_.' They've been talking."

Mark looks over at her. "They've definitely been screwing," he replies with conviction.

Lexie laughs. "That's what I said! But she _swears _they haven't been sleeping together…"

Mark shrugs. "Whatever."

"Apparently she's been pining after him forever," Lexie adds.

Mark stares at her, surprised. "She told you that?"

Lexie shakes her head. "No, but I could tell from the way she talked about him. And she told me she's in love with him."

"Well, that sure happened fast."

"If she really was waiting for him all this time…" Lexie shrugs. "I can't really blame her for not wanting to wait once an opportunity presented itself."

Mark shakes his head, smiling slightly.

"What?" Lexie asks, noticing the look on his face.

"Nothing," he replies. "It's just… I don't know, I guess I never thought about it, but… I didn't know that girls had the ones that 'got away.'"

Lexie gives him a small smile. "Of course we do," she replies, leaning towards him. She kisses him, reaching out to hold his hand. "You were almost mine," she whispers.

He's smiling when she pulls away. "Just how many times do I have to tell you that I'm never going anywhere?" He asks happily. "When is it going to finally sink in?"

Lexie squeezes his hand with a smile. "Maybe if you tell me just _one_ more time…"

. . .

_Author's Note: Please review! The next chapter will be Meredith and Derek coming over for dinner. Thank you all for your continued support and interest in this story. :)_


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29:**

_Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you all for your support and reviews. Please enjoy :)_

. . .

_Friday, 4 PM_

_. . ._

"Why do you need to go home so early?" Lauren questions. "You're usually here till five or six most days. Even Fridays."

"I have dinner plans tonight," Lexie replies. "And I'm cooking."

"_Oh_," Lauren grins. "For the boyfriend."

"For my sister and her husband, actually," Lexie replies with a smile. "But, yes, he'll be there, too." She sighs after a moment, staring at her patient. "Look, Lauren," she begins tiredly. "If you're still worried that you're arm isn't going to be recovering feeling on schedule…"

Lexie sighs when her patient looks up to her expectantly. _No doubt she's hoping for a quick fix, _Lexie thinks. _And least I can give her until she works at it is some reassurance._ "Let me just make a quick call, okay? But then I've gotta go. And you better start working harder on your therapy," she warns before picking up her phone.

_. . ._

"Hey, I was just heading home," Mark says into his cell. "Don't you want a ride? Meredith Derek will be there in a couple hours."

"Yeah, yeah, I do…" Lexie trails off before getting to the reason behind her call. "Can I ask you a quick favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"I need you to look at a patient of mine." She can hear him sigh on the other side of the line. They both knew the phrase 'getting off early' did not usually entail seeing _yet another _patient. "It'll just take a couple minutes, I promise," Lexie tells him. "Mark?" She asks after a few seconds. "Are you going to help me out or no?"

"What room are you in?"

. . .

There's a knock on Lauren Elder's room a moment later, and Lexie swivels her seat around just as Mark sticks his head in. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did," Lexie replies. "Could you check her arm real quick?"

"Sure," Mark replies, grabbing a pair of latex gloves from the box by the door. "What about her arm?"

"It's—" Lexie begins.

"It was transplanted on," Lauren replies in a bored tone, using one limb to point to the other. "Basically, it's just a useless hunk of flesh that I have to carry around."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Mark replies amiably, pulling up a chair so he can examine her. "You just need to go through some therapy. Trust me, it won't be useless for long. _Plenty _of people have had perfectly successful arm transplants, once they go through the necessary rehabilitation."

"I seriously doubt that."

"Lauren," Lexie says, looking the girl in the eye. "Dr. Sloan here has to be about the tenth doctor who has said that your arm will be okay. Are you really not going to believe any of us?"

"Unless he can make it move, no," Lauren replies with a sour look on her face.

"Hey," Mark says softly, picking up her arm.

"What?" The girl asks, not even bothering to look in his direction.

"I made it move."

"_What?_" She asks excitedly, whipping her head around. Her face automatically darkens when she sees he's only joking with her by lifting her arm up and down. "Very funny," she mutters with narrowed eyes.

"Sorry," Mark replies. "But Dr. Grey's right. The only way you're going to be able to move this thing is if you _want _to move it."

"I _do_!"

"So, if you do, go to therapy. They're there to help you."

"Yeah, right. They don't ever get anything done."

"Maybe because you're not trying."

"Dr. Sloan," Lexie warns.

"Hey, it's a valid observation," Mark replies. He stops his examination, looking the patient in the eye. "Come on, tell me the truth. Have you been trying in your sessions or just whining?"

Lauren exhales a gust of air upwards, causing her bangs to flutter above her forehead. "Fine," she acquiesces after a moment. "I haven't been trying."

"Ah. Whining. I thought so."

"The only reason I wasn't trying is because I wasn't getting anything out of it! And stop using that word," Lauren snaps angrily. "I do _not_ whine."

"And yet you're whining right now."

"Dr. Grey," Lauren calls. "Can we get someone else to look at my arm, please?"

"Sorry, Lauren," Lexie replies. "He was the one on call."

"There has to be someone else."

"Nope," Mark replies easily. "No one else. Just me."

Lauren eyes him with annoyance. "I'm fifteen, not five, okay? I know there are other plastic surgeons in this hospital."

"Yeah, but none of them are as good as me."

"Dr. Grey?" Lauren groans, waiting for clarification

"I regret to inform you that he's telling the truth," Lexie replies. "He's the best."

Laruen stares at her. "You're lying, aren't you? There's a better one, but that one isn't here, right?"

"He's the Head of Plastics, Lauren," Lexie informs her tiredly. "I seriously doubt there is anyone better."

A grin spreads over the girl's face a moment later. "Oh, so I get the _Head _of Plastics?" she asks with interest, looking over to the accomplished surgeon. "No department head has ever looked at my stupid arm before."

Mark smirks, examining the transplant site. "Yeah, well, I could hardly refuse when Dr. Grey asked, so here I am in all my department-head glory."

Lauren nods before furrowing her brow in confusion. "Why not, though?" She asks after a second, staring at him. "You could have just blown her off. I'm sure you have more important things to do than look at this dumb thing."

"Not at the moment," Mark replies absentmindedly, lightly prodding the almost invisible scar on her arm. "Plus, I'm her ride back home in a couple minutes, so it would've been rude to ignore her…"

"Wait," Lauren says before Lexie can speak, her eyes darting between the two. "_This _is the guy?" She turns to her doctor. "_He's_ is the one you left Dr. Ave—?"

"_Lauren_," Lexie warns.

Mark looks up, glancing to his girlfriend with interest. "You told her about me?"

"I _mentioned _you," Lexie stresses. She looks to her patient. "Lauren, I'd appreciate it if you left this alone."

Lauren grins. "Oh, no way." She glances over her shoulder to get a good look at the plastic surgeon before turning back to her primary doctor. _He's hot, _she mouths with a bright, amused eyes. Lexie shakes her head, but bursts out laughing a moment later. Her response causes Mark to look up, and he stares at her.

"What did I miss?" He questions.

"Nothing," Lauren replies quickly.

"Lauren," Lexie chuckles, "was simply remarking upon your physical appearance."

Mark smirks, looking between the two. "Sexy, right?" He wiggles his eyebrows at Lexie. "They don't call me McSteamy for nothing."

"Oh, _god_," Lexie groans, covering her face with a hand.

"What?" Lauren laughs, trying to catch up.

"It's an old joke," Lexie informs her. She catches her boyfriend's gaze. "A _very _old joke."

"If I'm not mistaken, Dr. Grey, I believe you just made a dig at my age," Mark points out with indignation.

"Oh, if it was an insult, trust me, you'd know," Lexie replies. "I'd never be that subtle, old-timer."

"And you're undermining my self-esteem in front of a patient," Mark replies. "Real nice. Very professional."

"Oh, on the contrary," Lexie smirks. "I'm telling it like it is."

Lauren grins, glancing between them. "You two are _adorable_. Seriously, _so _adorable."

Mark looks up at her. "She's insulting me, and you think that's adorable?" He questions.

"You're bickering," Lauren replies. "You're like an old married couple," she smiles. "I think it's cute."

"You might want to re-think your standards for a healthy relationship, then." He turns back to examining her arm, and in a few seconds, he gets to his feet and strips off his gloves.

"So?" Lauren questions, suddenly serious. "What's wrong with it? What's broken?"

"Nothing's broken," Mark replies. "The arm was transplanted perfectly." He looks down at the patient. "The only thing that's wrong is the amount of physical therapy you've been doing."

Lauren looks away, and doesn't meet either pair of eyes that are trained on her.

"You've got to work on it," Mark presses. "If you want to stay on schedule with your recovery, you need to put in the effort, too. It's not just up on your surgeon to heal you. He put you back together, sure, but you've gotta make sure all the parts still work." He stares at her. "That starts with therapy, okay?"

After a silent moment, Lauren nods. She meets Mark's eyes briefly before glancing to her doctor. Lexie steps forward to her side as Mark takes his leave. "You see?" She asks her patient. "I told you there was nothing wrong with your arm. You just need to _try_, okay? That's all anyone's asking of you here. Just try, put in some effort, and I know you'll see improvement."

Lauren nods again, staring down at the limb in question. Lexie glances to her watch quickly, taking note of the time.

"Okay," Lexie begins. "Well, I've got go, but you understand that your arm is okay, right? All you need to do is put in time for your physical therapy. I'm certain things will look up if you try."

The girl nods. "Yeah, yeah." She puts a smile on her face as he doctor steps out of the room. "Have a nice dinner!"

_. . ._

_6 PM_

_. . ._

Two hours later, Meredith and Derek have arrived right on schedule. Since the fish Lexie had cooked is just finishing up in the oven and the rest of the meal is prepared, she accompanies Mark to the doorway. They're both pleasantly surprised to see that there's an unexpected guest that will be joining them for the night.

"We brought Zola," Derek says apologetically by way of greeting as he walks in the door. "I hope that's okay," he adds with a frown. "The babysitter cancelled on us and since it was Friday night—"

"Aunt Lexie!" The little girl cries, pushing past her father and running into the apartment.

"Hey, Zo!" Lexie grins, bending down to scoop up the little girl in her arms. "How are you, girlie?"

"Good!"

Mark smiles, catching Derek's eye. "It's fine that she's here," he says, waving the couple inside. "Don't worry about it."

"She can just watch TV while we eat," Meredith suggests.

"She already had dinner?" Lexie asks, setting the little girl down.

Derek nods, pulling off his coat. "Yeah, before we came."

"But then the babysitter cancelled," Meredith adds with an annoyed sigh. "And we couldn't—"

"Where's Uncle Jackson?"

The group freezes, and all eyes shoot to the little girl standing between the two pairs of adults. Zola turns expectantly to her aunt. "Isn't he here, too?"

"He—" Lexie pauses, caught off guard by the mention. She's forgotten how old Zola's gotten, and how easily she notices things. She takes a breath before continuing, "He's not—"

"He's not here right now," Meredith replies. She gives her sister a meaningful glance before taking her daughter's hand and leading her a few feet away to speak in private.

"Why not?" Lexie can hear her niece whine as she's taken to the far side of the room. "Where did he go?"

Lexie closes her eyes for a second before heading to the kitchen to remove herself from the situation. She listens absentmindedly as Derek strikes up a conversation about sports with Mark. No doubt everyone's straining to hear the quiet words spoken between mother and daughter, but Meredith has moved them far enough away so their voices are practically inaudible.

"What d'you mean he's not here right now?" Zola asks, staring up at her mother as they walk to the doorway. They stop there, and Meredith bends down to explain the situation to her daughter. "Where did he go?"

"Your Uncle is in Portland," Meredith explains quietly.

"So Aunt Lexie came without him? Do I get to see him later?"

Meredith stares at her daughter for a quiet moment before deciding to settle on the hard truth. "Your aunt and uncle got divorced," Meredith informs her daughter softly. "But I'm sure he'd love to see you, Zo. Maybe we can call him in a couple weeks."

"Divorced?" Zola repeats, obviously confused and latching onto the unfamiliar word.

Meredith nods. "It means they—your aunt and uncle—aren't married anymore."

"Why not?"

Meredith gives her daughter a sad smile. "To tell you the truth, I don't think they were very happy together, Zo. Your aunt and uncle were both very young when they were married, and…sometimes young people make mistakes."

"Couldn't they just fix the mistake and be married again?"

_They did,_ Meredith thinks to herself, but doesn't dare say aloud. "They fixed it the best way they knew how," she replies diplomatically. "And the way your aunt and uncle saw it, the best thing for both of them to do was separate."

Meredith watches her daughter's face pucker with sorrow. "Mommy, they broke up?"

Her mother nods sadly. "I'm sorry, sweetie, they did."

"But… why?"

"Like I said," Meredith repeats, "they weren't very happy together. And I…" She sighs quietly. "I don't think your aunt and uncle loved each other enough to make it work."

She watches as her daughter frowns, and hears her sniff. Before she can speak, Zola whispers tearfully, "But you and Daddy love each other enough, right?"

"Oh, baby," Meredith murmurs. A reassuring smile spreads across her face, and she kisses her daughter's forehead before hugging her tight. "Of course we do, honey."

"Are you sure?" Zola asks when the hug ends.

Meredith smiles. "I'm very sure, Zo." She eyes her daughter seriously. "We won't ever be getting divorced, okay?"

Zola takes a breath. "That's good."

"It is good," Meredith agrees with a smile.

The mother and daughter pair fall silent for a minute as Zola takes a look around the room. She looks at all the adults, watching her father pour wine into four glasses while her aunt continues chopping a garnish for one of the dishes. She stares at the small changes to the apartment since the last time she was here, and suddenly, she realizes what's happened.

"Mom," Zola whispers. "Does Aunt Lexie live here now?"

Meredith nods. "She does."

"With Uncle Mark?" Meredith nods again. "…Why?" Zola asks, confused. "Doesn't she have her own place to live?" Her face lights up with excitement a moment later. "Oh, Mom, can't she come live with us instead?"

Meredith smiles faintly. "I think she'd rather stay here, Zo."

"But _why_? She could live with us! She could sleep in my room!"

Meredith bites back a laugh, but a smile flourishes on her face. "Then where will you sleep, hm?" Zola ignores the question, and Meredith continues. "Zo, your aunt wants to stay here to be with your uncle, okay? She loves you very much, trust me, but—"

Zola pouts. "But she loves Uncle Mark more?"

Meredith smiles softly. "I think she loves you two equally," she replies warmly.

"So can't she stay with us, Mom? _Please_?"

"I'll ask her," Meredith chuckles, turning back to the rest of the party. "But I'm warning you, Zo, the answer will probably be no."

She's about to walk away when she feels a tug on her shirt. She turns around to see her daughter staring past her. She follows her gaze, watching as Lexie kisses Mark's cheek briefly while laughing at something funny Derek seems to have said. She turns back to her daughter when she feels another tug.

"Mom," Zola whispers. "Are my Aunt Lexie and Uncle Mark going to get married now? Since she's divorced?"

Meredith's eyes go wide for a split-second before she quells her surprise. "I… I don't know," she replies softly. She had never considered the possibility until now... And _now,_ she had no answer. "I don't know, Zo."

"They're already living together, and they love each other, don't they?" Zola reasons simply. "Why don't they get married?"

"They do," Meredith allows, smiling at her daughter's simple logic. "They do love each other. But marriage is a complicated, thing, Zo."

She watches her daughter as the little girl looks away and studies the couple in the kitchen for a few moments. Her eyes return to her mother slowly. "Or are they just lonely?" She asks quietly. "Are they just together 'cause they don't have nobody else to be with? So they don't want to get married?"

Meredith sighs softly, kneeling down by her daughter. "They aren't lonely," she explains. "Not anymore. You were right before, they're together because they love each other. Your aunt…" Meredith trails off momentarily. "Your Aunt Lexie has always had a special place in her heart for your Uncle Mark, Zo. I just don't think she realized it."

"Until she got divorced?" Zola guesses.

Meredith nods, knowing she's lying to her daughter but also knowing that Zola doesn't need to know this part of the truth. "Yes, exactly."

"So," Zola begins again. "If—if they get married, can I be their flower girl?"

"Zola…" Meredith sighs.

"Can I? Can I, please? Sofia got to be for Aria's weeding and I really wanted to!"

"Well, Sofia was asked, Zo, but we'll see." Meredith smiles faintly, only half-listening as she tries to think. She can't remember Lexie ever mentioning plans for the future between her and Mark. "But I… I think that they're just going to be together for a while, Zo," she replies after a moment.

"Are they going to have babies?"

Meredith smiles slightly, remembering all the times she'd asked for a younger sibling. "I don't know that either," she murmurs after a second.

Zola stares at her for a minute before huffing impatiently and walking off in the direction of the other adults. It takes Meredith all of three seconds to realize what she's up to, and she grabs the little girl's arm to stop her before she can reach her relatives.

"Zola," she begins seriously, looking her daughter straight in the eye, "do _not _go ask your aunt or uncle these things."

"Why not?" Zola replies, crossing her arms angrily. "I want to know."

"Zola, these are very personal matters, okay? You are not allowed to just ask these questions to whomever you want." She tilts her head, gathering her daughter's attention. "I don't want you talking about any of this with anyone besides me or your Dad, okay, Zo? These are _private _questions," Meredith stresses. She waits until her daughter nods in understanding, but the way she skips off towards the rest of the party leaves the blonde surgeon more than a little nervous about what she might spout out in mixed company the next time her curiosity gets the better of her.

. . .

"So," Lexie begins quietly as she sidles up to her sister a few minutes later. "How did your little talk over there go?"

Meredith smiles, taking a sip of her wine. "Very well, actually."

Lexie smiles, immediately, having feared a less desirable outcome. "Really?"

Meredith nods. "Yup. I explained everything to her."

"Good."

Meredith chuckles softly a moment later.

Lexie looks over to her, sprouting a slightly confused smile. "What?" She asks.

"Zola," Meredith murmurs quietly as she stands next to her sister, "wants you to come live with us."

Lexie looks up, startled. "What?" She asks, surprised and amused. "Why?"

Meredith rolls her eyes at her sister. "Come on," she mutters, heading to the table as Mark and Derek take their seats. "Don't pretend like you don't know that you're the favorite aunt."

"I—" Lexie breaks off, smiling and feeling oddly flattered. "Really?"

"Oh, don't play that game with me," Meredith smiles, sitting down diagonal from her sister. "You know she loves you to bits."

. . .

The dinner progresses slowly but surely, and to everyone's immense relief, no arguments or fights break out. The civil mood about the table could be due to Zola's presence in the adjoining room, but the little girl was so consumed with the cartoons on TV during dinner that she seemed to barely be aware of the gathering in the next room. Since Lexie spent a good amount of the afternoon cooking and preparing the dinner, she was happy to see that the meal went off without a hitch. Mark and Derek kept glancing at each other every few minutes during the polite conversation at the beginning of the meal, but when nothing took a turn for the worse, even they were able to relax and have fun.

. . .

It wasn't until after the dinner was finished that things took another interesting turn. Mark was setting the stack of plates in the sink when he heard a quiet voice call out in his name.

"Hey, Uncle Mark?"

Mark Sloan turns around, seeing his best friend's daughter standing a few feet away. She's clinging to the side of the island, staring up at him. "Hey, Zola. What's up?"

"I want to ask you something but my Mom told me not to."

Mark smiles, bending down to speak with the little girl. "Well, what are you going to do then? Want to ask me or not?"

"I want to," Zola replies.

Mark smiles encouragingly, waiting for her to continue.

"When Aria got married," she begins, citing Callie's sister, "Sofia got to be the flower girl."

Mark nods slowly, wondering where this is headed. "Okay…"

"And I really wanted to be one, too, but my mom said I couldn't because Sofia was asked and not me."

"Do you want me to see if Aria will be willing to hold another wedding, just so you can walk down the aisle, too?" Mark smiles.

Zola shakes her head, and he watches her face grow very solemn. Her dark eyes stare up at him. "Can I be your and Aunt Lexie's flower girl when you get married?" She whispers quietly. Mark's eyes fly upward immediately, checking to see if anyone's in the room. No one is—he can hear Meredith, Derek, and Lexie's voices all floating in from the adjoining room. He lets out a relieved breath.

"Zola," Mark begins softly a second later. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but—"

"Please?" Zola whispers. "I won't mess up, I promise—"

"I know you won't," Mark replies patiently. He rubs her upper arm in comfort. "And I know you really want this, Zo, but I just don't think that will be happening between your aunt and I anytime soon."

Zola frowns. "Why not?" She asks. "You love each other, don't you? My Mom said you did."

Mark nods, smiling absentmindedly at the fact that Meredith really did tell her daughter the truth—or, at least, the only part of the truth that really mattered. "Yes, we do. But, Zola…" He sighs softly, making it a bit sad just for her benefit. "I don't particularly think your aunt wants to get married again, honey. I don't really see that as an option for us."

"Did she say that? Did you ask her?"

Mark shakes his head. "I don't have to ask her, Zo. I can just tell these things."

"But maybe if you asked her…"

Mark smiles, tilting his head. "Look, I am _sure _someone will get married soon, okay? You'll be able to be a flower girl, I promise. Just not for us."

"Well…" Zola looks down, defeated. "If she changes her mind… Do I still get to be your flower girl?"

Mark smiles. "Of course, sweetie," he promises, pulling her close for a hug.

Zola leaves the kitchen to go back to watching TV a moment later, and Mark heads back to the dining room. He braces himself as he walks into the room, ready to be met with any sort of response. Maybe they all overheard, or many Lexie was waiting for a proposal… But there is no response. All he gets is a quick smile from his girlfriend as he takes his seat beside her, and in seconds, he's able to jump back into the flow of conversation if he'd never left. His short conversation with his niece is all but forgotten as he enjoys the rest of the evening with his family.

. . .

_10 PM_

_. . ._

"You've been quiet," Mark notes as the slip into bed later that night. He glances over to his girlfriend as she lies down next to him. "Is something on your mind?"

Lexie shakes her head. "No," she replies softly. "Nothing, it's just…" She sighs softly, lying back against the pillows and looking over at him. "I'm so happy things went well tonight. I… I never thought we'd be able to go back to this, especially after what happened with Meredith. But now…" She smiles, shaking her head briefly in disbelief. "It's almost like nothing's changed since I lived here all those years ago."

"Nothing has changed," Mark replies softly.

Lexie stare at him, tilting her head in confusion.

"I still love you," he reminds her.

"Aw," Lexie smiles, scooting forward to kiss him chastely. She rests her hand on the side of his neck. "You're cute."

Mark rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on. I'm much better than cute."

Lexie smiles. "Okay, okay… Slightly attractive."

"_Slightly_?" Mark repeats with fake-outrage. He brings a hand to his chest. "You wound me, Grey."

Lexie laughs. "You should be pleased to know that Lauren thinks you're hot."

Mark frowns. "She's fifteen years old."

Lexie grins. "Just be grateful _someone _finds you appealing," she jokes.

"Well, then," Mark mutters, turning towards her and rolling his body above hers. "I'll just have to _make _you find me attractive."

"Impossible," Lexie replies staunchly, looking up at him.

"And why is that?" He asks, bending down close so their lips are only millimeters from touching.

Lexie grins, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. "Why, because I already find you _so_ handsome," she coos.

"Ah, _now_ she admits it."

Lexie chuckles softly, pulling him close. "I just needed a little reminder."

Mark bends down, pressing his body firmly against hers. Lexie's lips crash to his as her back arches up at the contact and her hips buck against him.

"That isn't exactly a 'little' reminder," she notes breathlessly when they break apart for air.

He grins down at her. "Oh, I know."

Lexie laughs happily, shaking her head briefly at his smugness before pulling him close and drawing his lips to hers.

. . .

At a quarter past midnight, Mark is still awake. Lexie lies asleep, curled up beside him in the bed. He's been watching her for some time, letting his mind drift over all that had occurred over the last few hours. By anyone's standards, the dinner had been a success. There hadn't been one mean word or accusation, and by the time Meredith and Derek left to put Zola to bed, everyone was sharing hugs.

He sighs softly when he remembers the little girl's pleas to be a part of their never-to-occur wedding. He wonders, curious, why Zola's words hadn't plagued him all night. When he'd walked back into the dining room, he half-expected to fall down on one knee the moment he saw Lexie. But of course that didn't happen. And he didn't want it to happen.

_But why don't I want it to happen?_ He wonders, focusing his gaze on the slumbering woman next to him. The answer comes to him almost immediately: _I am fine with what I have now_. _I am more than fine._

This—being a public and vital part of her life—was all he'd ever wanted. What had tormented him all those years was the secrecy. It was the fact that they both knew that he was the only one that could truly make her happy—the only one she truly loved—yet no one else knew it. But, now, everyone knows. Jackson knows, Derek knows, Meredith knows… Every single person at the hospital knows, and even if they didn't… It would have been enough just for their close friends to have known. It would have been enough even if just Jackson had known. Because after he knew, there was no way they could have stayed together and made it work. And once they were apart, Mark knew that she would come back to him. She'd always come back, she always had. And she did, again, one final time.

And in Mark's mind, he and Lexie had been virtually married since the day she came home to him. She'd left her husband, her life, her job, her home… She'd left everything for him. And he didn't need anything else. He didn't need a certificate or a wedding ring or a big production in a church. He didn't need his niece to throw flowers or see his girlfriend in a white dress. He didn't need anything to prove to the masses that she loved him, because he heard the words enough times from her own lips that he now took the phrase as an absolute truth.

_I love you._

He had her for now, and she would always be enough, hopefully for forever.

. . .

_Author's Note: I believe this story will be winding down soon… _Please review!__

__(Side Note: Wow, it has again been a while since I've updated. If you feel like reading more of my stuff, I believe I've published **three** whole stories since the last time I updated. (Have I apologized recently for my sporadic updating? Even if I have, I'm sorry.) You can find them on my profile if you're interested :).)__


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30:**

_Author's note: Aw, thank you all for being so concerned about the end of the story. I didn't mean to alarm you; there's about 6-ish chapters left (depending on how I break them up). The only reason I said that the story is winding down is because I consider each of these chapters to be epilogues, due to the final way each chapter ends and also because, at one point or another, they each really were the final ending to the story. But don't worry; you'll know the end when you read it :)_

_Chapter Note: I apologize profusely for the lame time jump to December, but I honestly couldn't think of a better way to deal with the passing of time. Sorry :(_

**_. . ._**

As the months continued to pass without scandal or intrigue, Mark and Lexie gradually felt themselves relax. The lack of interest from the hospital's gossip mill was a welcome reprieve from all the attention, and it was an even sweeter treat when the novelty of their scandalous romantic relationship finally moved permanently to the backburner. It didn't take much.

As the spring months drew to a close, the older class of interns moved up while younger and even less adept replacements took the spots left behind. The group that came in just as autumn began were just as useless as the previous class in many of the attending doctors' eyes, but it was evident almost from the get-go that they would be infinitely more prone to dramatics and scandalous outbursts. It only took a week, but after those first few days, it was clear to the rest of the hospital staff that the students' hook-ups and break-ups seemed to be happening exclusively within the hospital. It was downright ridiculous and extremely annoying for everyone involved, but at least it shifted the focus off of Mark and Lexie. For that, at least, they were grateful.

But, as it turned out, they didn't even need the continuous diversions from other people's love lives to keep themselves busy or off the gossipers' radar. Everyday life quickly swept them away, and held the scandals indefinitely at bay. Quicker than she could have imagined, patients were piling up for Lexie, and soon she was in the OR almost eight hours a day. By August, Arizona and Richard were already discussing searching for another pediatric surgeon to add to the department. Mark, on the other hand, was not so busy with surgery, but busy with teaching. Somewhere along the line, he had unwillingly picked up not one but two protégées to train and instruct, both of which sucked more than their fair share of his time and diminished his store of patience in mere minutes. On what soon amounted to a weekly basis, he threatened to anyone that would listen that he'd be transferring to a non-teaching hospital and taking all his patients with him if the two surgeons-in-training didn't stop shadowing him everywhere he went.

It was only as the December holidays approached that things started to get easier. Over that last winter month, life slowly took a turn for the less hectic for Mark and Lexie. To the pediatrics department's great relief, Arizona and Richard made a new hire near the end of November. Miraculously, the fresh addition turned out not only to be a phenomenal surgeon, but she also quickly meshed well with the current staff due to her easygoing nature. And to make matters even more relaxed for the couple, just two weeks before break, one of Mark's personal students was spirited away to nearby Seattle Presbyterian with an offer of a greater salary and a better position once he passed his exam. Because of the man's potential, though, Richard himself had paid the kid a visit to entice him back… But when it was clear that he wasn't going to budge on the matter—even for a higher salary—he left it there. Mark promised to mourn the loss, and he did so by taking two consecutive weeks off over the holiday and leaving things to his one remaining yet still over-zealous pupil.

It was just around that time, near the end of December and less than a week before Christmas, that Lexie Grey had a run-in with an old acquaintance that caused her to reexamine her life for a second time.

. . .

She had been walking down the street, searching—last minute, of course—for a Christmas present for Zola, when she bumped into another passerby on the street. The two quickly exchanged apologies and excuses before going their separate ways, but before she had even walked out of earshot, Lexie heard a familiar voice call her name.

Lexie's eyes were narrowed as she turned around, scrutinizing the blonde woman calling her name. She recognized the voice from seconds ago… And from almost a year ago.

"Whitney?" Lexie asks in disbelief, openly staring at the woman before her as she steps closer. "What…" She feels a smile curving up her lips. "What are you doing in Seattle?"

The divorce attorney smiles, gesturing around to the bustle of people surrounding them. "Holidays," she replies. "I've got family down here." She holds up a couple bags from the children's store Lexie had visited twenty minutes ago. She wonders if they were possibly there at the same time. "I just bought about twenty games for my brother's kids."

"How many does he have?"

Whitney fakes an exasperated groan. "Five!"

Lexie chuckles quietly, and they hold each other's curious stares for a few seconds before retiring to an open bench by on the edge of the sidewalk to talk.

"So who are you shopping for down here?" Whitney asks as they take their seats.

"Oh," Lexie smiles. "My niece. She's nine now, and I haven't been able to find the right gift yet."

Whitney stares at her for a second before asking, "Meredith, right? That's your sister?"

"Wow," Lexie replies, impressed. "I cannot believe you remembered her name."

Whitney smiles. "Well, I'm a lawyer. We generally learn to memorize names, faces, dates, figures...practically anything and everything that pertains to a case…" She trails off, tilting her head to the side and letting her white-blonde hair hang down the side of her face. "So how have you been? Since Portland and the divorce?" She clarifies, as if Lexie might've forgotten their connection.

"I've been good," Lexie replies, feeling a smile take place on her face as she thinks about all that's happened over the last year. "Great, actually."

Whitney smiles encouragingly in reply. "I take it things haven't changed, then?" She asks with an amused look in her eye.

Lexie laughs quietly, remembering how they'd parted in Portland. "Not really."

"Well, that's—" Whitney breaks off, sighing in impatience when her phone goes off. "Sorry," she mutters, answering the call and having a brief conversation with the person on the other line. She gets to her feet just after she hangs up, and Lexie does the same. "I'm sorry," she tells the brunette, who quickly waves away the apology. "My brother needs someone to watch the kids for an hour; he's got to run out on some errand…" She regards her former client for a silent moment. "Look, I'd really like to know how you've been doing since you moved," Whitney says. "I know it's almost Christmas and you're probably busy, but…" She shrugs her shoulders lightly. "We could get caught up over dinner or something? If you're free, that is."

Lexie can't help but smile. "That sounds nice. I'll um…" She glances to her watch, realizing that it's almost noon and she'll have to be back in the hospital in twenty minutes. "You know, why don't you call me when you have a place in mind? I can meet you wherever as long as it's after six."

Whitney nods. "Sounds good." She smiles, and Lexie waves in return as they part ways. Just as she's turning away, Whitney calls out to her again. "And—" She breaks off for a second, trying to remember. "It's… Mark, right? He could come too, if you want."

Lexie smiles in happy surprise. "Thanks. I'll ask him later tonight."

. . .

_5:30 PM_

_. . ._

"Really?" Lexie asks despondently. "Are you _sure _you don't want to come?"

"Lex," Mark sighs in exasperation. "We've been _over_ this. I don't want to talk about what happened."

Lexie rolls her eyes. "Mark, for the millionth time, she isn't going to bring up my divorce."_ She might. _"It's just a dinner. We'll find other things to talk about."

"Yes, but not after you've talked about it first," Mark replies. He catches her eye. "She was your divorce lawyer, you were her client… Lex, of course you're going to talk about it—it's all you two have in common." He frowns. "And I don't feel like getting into it with a woman I barely know."

"Well, _I _know her," Lexie replies defensively. "And I happen to think of her as a _friend_."

"One you haven't spoken to in a year," he points out casually.

"She got me through a hard time, Mark. _Legally,_" she adds when he raises his eyebrows to contest her point.

"Fine," he replies after a moment. "Go have dinner with your friend. I'll be here."

"You're being a baby about this," Lexie taunts over her shoulder as she heads to the door.

"Bye," Mark calls back in reply.

. . .

"Hi," Lexie says with a fresh smile, sitting down across the table from Whitney twenty minutes later. She gestures at the empty third chair with a dismissive wave. "Sorry, Mark, uh, he…" She trails off, frowning slightly. "He didn't really—"

"—want to have dinner with his girlfriend's divorce lawyer?" Whitney guesses with a smile. She waves a hand. "Don't worry, I figured as much. …Although," she murmurs a second later, glancing casually down at her menu. "You think he'd be more grateful to me and show some respect for all I've done for him."

Lexie stares at her with wide eyes for a moment before laughing out loud. "Wow," she chuckles after a moment. "I'll be sure to tell him what he's missing."

Whitney grins, putting her white teeth on display.

"Do you know," Lexie asks once they've ordered their entrees and been served drinks, "how long you're going to be here for?"

"Oh, at least until New Year's," Whitney replies. "We've got a nice surplus of new kids at my firm, so for once I'm able to actually have a holiday… And I'm taking full advantage."

Lexie smiles. "Well, good for you."

"So…" Whitney begins hesitantly. Her eyes flicker across the table, eyeing the empty seat for a moment. "How's it going? Between you two?"

Lexie smiles, slightly amused at the cautious way her usually straight-to-the-point lawyer broached the subject. "It's going well," Lexie replies. "Really well, actually."

Whitney almost sighs in relief. "Good," she says empathically. "That's good."

"Did you…think it was all for nothing?"

Whitney shrugs sheepishly. "It usually is."

"Well," Lexie smiles politely. "It wasn't this time."

Whitney nods, thinking for a moment, before asking, "So have you guys… thought about the future?"

Lexie looks up, rather taken aback at the subject change. "The future?" She repeats dumbly.

"Well… Yeah," Whitney replies, as if it were obvious. "It's been almost a year since you moved back to Seattle. Do you two have plans or are you just…" She trails off, noting the brunette's confusion. "Doing whatever?"

Lexie stares back at her without a word, and after a minute passes, Whitney mutters, "Sorry. That was really personal, I know. I just expected you to have something—"

"We…talked about having a baby," Lexie whispers, shocking herself at the sudden remembrance of how she spent her last Christmas holiday. Her mind drifts through the seemingly ancient memories quickly, going back over all that she and Mark had shared that night. When she comes back to the present, her lawyer's staring at her expectantly.

"Well, that's…good, right?" She smiles encouragingly. "That's a big step, but… a good one, I'm guessing?"

Lexie shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts and separate the past from the present. "This was months ago," she explains. "When we talked about this, it was back, um, back when Mark was trying to get me to leave Jackson…"

Whitney stares at her in confusion. "He wanted you to have his baby _then_?" She interrupts, shocked. "While you were still married?"

"No, no, we…" Lexie takes a steadying breath, lifting her eyes to meet the blonde woman's confused gaze across the table. "I had already decided to leave Jackson," she informs her lawyer. "And we were…" She sighs quietly. "We were talking about all the missed opportunities, discussing all the time we had let slip by… And I told him one of the things I regretted was not having children with him while we were together. I asked him if having kids with me would scare him off and he…" Lexie feels a smile spread over her face at the memory. _Of course I want that. I want everything with you._ "He wanted what I wanted, too. He wanted us to be a family."

Whitney smiles delicately, realizing her questions seemed to have awoken some dormant dream of Lexie's. "So what're you going to do?" She asks quietly. "Are you going to talk to him about this?"

Lexie returns her smile, her dark eyes bright with surprised happiness when she looks across the table. "I think I will," she replies softly.

"Well," Whitney grins as their food arrives. "That'd be a nice Christmas present, wouldn't it?"

Lexie chuckles, voicing her whole-hearted agreement, "Oh, definitely."

Conversation after that falls to a minimum for the nest few minutes as they both dig into their dinners. But it soon picks up again, much lighter than before. They each discuss their respective lives and practices, and each learns a bit more about the other over time. As the night wears on and eventually draws to a close around eight-thirty, those opening subjects of conversation are still on Lexie's mind as she calls a cab. It's only as she's riding home that she starts to feel grateful that Mark hadn't wanted to come, after all.

With all the traffic, it takes about thirty minutes for her to get home, and by then, Lexie's confidence from earlier in the evening has waned considerably. It had all seemed so simple when she'd discussed it with Whitney—how hard would it be to say the words "I want a baby"? Not hard. Not hard at all, especially when she knew that Mark wanted one, too. Or at least he did. And the more she thought about it, the more complicated the situation seemed to become. A baby would be a real thing—a tiny human that would eventually turn into a living, breathing person—and it would be a part of them forever. It would serve to others how much they loved each other and how committed they were to their relationship. But, Lexie was quickly realizing, that wouldn't be enough. She needed something more, something else, before she'd be able to ask him to have a child with her with a clear conscience and an optimistic mindset.

The only problem was, unlike how she knew what his views on starting a family would be, Lexie had absolutely _no_ idea if he ever wanted the sort of future she was contemplating asking him for. He had brought it up, years ago, and he had seemed earnest at the time… But that was over a decade ago. Things weren't the same as they were when she was an intern, and they weren't the same as when they were dating. Things had changed—_they _had changed—and Lexie didn't have the slightest inkling of an idea as to whether or not he even still wanted the same life with her as he did when they were young.

But maybe asking him was worth a shot, anyway.

. . .

"Hey," Mark calls when he hears the apartment door open around nine o'clock. "How was dinner? You were out awfully late."

When Lexie doesn't reply after a few seconds, he looks over to the front of the apartment. The look of total preoccupation on her face makes him stand up. "Lex?" He calls again, finally getting her attention. Her head snaps up to meet him, bewildered. He lingers by the couch. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

Lexie shakes her head quickly. "No, no, I'm fine. I just…" She takes a breath. "Mark, I—I just need to think for a little while, okay?"

"You want to be alone?" He guesses.

She shakes her head again, slower this time. He can already tell whatever's on her mind has consumed her thoughts once again. "No…" She replies slowly. "I… I just have to think."

. . .

Having to think but not wanting to be alone, it seems, meant that Lexie had to sit on the far opposite side of the couch from Mark and stare at him for minutes on end without saying a word. After an entire hour of this, Mark put down the book he'd been pretending to read, turned to his right, and stared her right back in the eye.

"Okay," he says finally, breaking the tense silence. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened," Lexie replies. "It's just…" She looks away with a quiet sigh. "Whitney made me think about things that I haven't…haven't thought about in a while."

Mark regards her warily. "Should I be worried?"

"What?" Lexie replies, whipping her head around. She immediately realizes his mind is automatically going to her ex-husband. "What, no, of course not!"

Mark takes a quiet breath of relief. "Well, okay, then." He moves forward a few inches. "Why don't you just tell me what this is about?" He asks softly. "Maybe I can help."

Lexie shakes her head, but scoots towards him nonetheless. She takes a breath, bracing herself as she feels her mind spinning out of control and her heart beating so hard its perilously close to coming out of her chest. "Mark, what you said that night…" Mark shifts in his seat, moving forward when he senses the acuteness of her anxiety. "When you were…" Lexie pauses, taking a breath, and he watches as she fiddles with her hands to avoid letting him see that they're shaking. "When you were trying to get me to leave Jackson, you said…" She looks down, clasping her hands tightly together. "You said that you felt you were wasting your life because I married him and—not you," she whispers quickly, her eyes flicking up to his.

"...Yes?" Mark asks tentatively after a moment, unsure of what he's supposed to say. Lexie bites down on her lip hard, raising her head to look him in the eye.

"Well, I… I don't want you to waste your life anymore, Mark," she says, scooting closer to him on the couch.

"I'm not," he replies automatically with a bewildered half-smile. "We're fine, we're good. …Aren't we?"

Lexie shakes her head rapidly, looking away. He can practically feel the anxiety pulsing out of her body.

"Lex," he says softly, trying not to let her nerves affect him. "Please just tell me… What's wrong?"

"N—nothing, nothing's wrong. I didn't—" She breaks off, taking a deep breath. "All I meant was, I don't want you wasting your life." He opens his mouth to assure her again that he isn't, but before he can get the words out, she continues. "And I don't want to waste mine. I… I don't want to waste this time we have left or this life we have together." Mark lets his mouth close slowly at this, tilting his head in puzzlement and tightening his gaze on her instead of responding. "So…" Lexie bites the side of her tongue before raising her eyes to his. She can barely speak, and her words come out in one single, terrified breath. "Mark, will you marry me?"

Mark Sloan stares at the woman in front of him, unable to utter a word. He's sure he's dreaming—none of this is real. None of it _could _be real, after all. _Why would she want to marry _**me**_, anyway? _After a few seconds, it becomes necessary for him to blink, so he does just that and nothing else. He continues to stare at her, speechless, watching in dumb silence her expression grows more and more panicked by the second.

"Mark, please," Lexie whispers a minute later when the silence becomes too much to bear. "Please just say something. Anything." She takes a nervous breath. "If—if you want to say no, just say no." She stares at him, her eyes pained. "You—you can say no, Mark. Just—just say it. Please."

He shakes his head slightly at her words, and Lexie can't help but feel like he'd stolen her breath with the gesture. _So this is it, _she realizes, feeling her heart physically break in her chest and her eyes prick with pain. _He doesn't want me in his life like that._ She knows there's no going back to what they had before after this._ We were fine before and now I've gone and ruined everything. Everything's gone. _**He's **_gone. We'll never—_

But those pessimistic thoughts are banished from her mind almost immediately when she feels his body lurch forward and crash against hers. Lexie only has time to suck in a quick gasp before Mark's lips are on hers while his hands scrambles to pull her as close as possible.

"Yes," he whispers hoarsely between kisses. "_Yes_."

Lexie can only manage a small, shocked smile in time to meet his crystal-clear gaze. He's pulled back, his hands having fallen from her face, but she can still remember the touch of them there. "Yes," he repeats, never taking his eyes off of her. "God, yes, I'll marry you."

Lexie smile widens to a full-fledged grin as she surges forward, mimicking his passionate kiss from moments ago, and practically tackling him in her haste to bring their bodies together. Mark's arms wrap around her immediately, and she soon confides in him between hurried kisses and hot bodies that she's wanted this for as long as she can remember.

. . .

**_Cause I don't want to wait until tomorrow_**

**_To tell you how I'll feel the rest of my life._**

**_You don't want to waste another minute when you realize…_**

_Walking on the dark side of the evening_

**_Maybe it was you that opened my eyes,_**

**_Burning like a fire on the water…_**

_. . ._

_Author's Note: Kindly leave me a review, please. :)_


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31:**

_Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews :) I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations._

. . .

"You thought I'd say 'no?'" Mark asks later that night as they lay spread out on the couch. "Really?"

Lexie shrugs, feeling a smile spread over her face as she remembers how anxious she had been just a couple hours ago. "I was just expecting the worst, is all," she replies, nestling her head against his chest and pulling the blanket covering their naked bodies closer.

"I understand that, but why would I _want_ to say 'no?'" He presses. She meets his eyes, happy to find that he's smiling at her. "Lexie, when have I _ever_ been able to say 'no' to you?"

"I was just nervous," she tells him. "I wasn't sure if you were ready to—"

"—to marry you?" He finishes for her. She watches as his mouth spreads in a loving smile. "Lex, I've…" He shakes his head briefly, obviously amused. "I've been ready to marry you since you were twenty-four."

"Well, I…" Her smile widens, and her cheeks blush a pale pink at his words. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, then."

He grins, somehow finding the understatement amusing after all this time. "Better late than never."

"You know," Lexie informs him quietly. "I used to imagine us getting married…" She trails off, and Mark smiles at the idea. "How _weird_ it would have been," she adds with a soft chuckle.

"Weird?" Mark quotes, staring at her. "What do you mean, it would have been 'weird?'"

She laughs aloud at his gravely confused expression, reaching out to touch his cheek gently. "I didn't mean it like that," she laughs. "I just…" Lexie trails off, shaking her head. "This was years and years ago," she explains. "Back when I was still in residency, when we were first together—when I was twenty-four, actually," she adds with a smile. "You asked me once if I would marry you and I laughed it off because… Well, it scared me. Getting married young was not part of my plan." She sighs happily, rubbing her bare foot against his leg. "But then you brought it up, and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day."

"You never told me that," he replies, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Why not?"

"I thought that if I ignored it, it would go away. So I didn't mention it." She shakes her head with a smile. "And like I said, it wasn't part of my plan." She spreads her hands, palms forward, in front of her. "I had everything in its proper place. And then you came along and broke through everything… And that was enough change for me. That a big enough risk to take, a big enough break in the plan that I… I really just didn't want to put anything else to chance. Plus," she adds in a whisper, leaning forward and shifting her eyes from side to side as if scouting for eavesdroppers, "what would people have _said_?"

Mark laughs, leaning forward to kiss her before pulling back. "You would have never heard the end of it, I'm sure," he replies. "Marrying me at that point in our lives, our careers… would _not_have been a good idea."

"If possible, my intern class would have hated me even _more_."

"I don't know if they could have hated you any more than they already did," Mark chuckles. He falls silent a moment later, studying her as she looks to the floor with a smile. "What did you imagine?" He asks quietly.

"Hm?" Lexie asks, glancing up.

"You said you used to think about us getting married… What did you imagine?" He grins. "Pretty ring, big dress?"

"Yes," Lexie laughs. "Actually, I did. That's why I wasn't ready to move in with you when you wanted me to… I thought you'd pull out a ring any second."

"But you—"

"But I did move in," Lexie finishes for him. She exhales happily, taking his hand in hers and tracing the patterns over the faint creases of his skin. "Because I realized… I pretty much thought to myself, 'What the hell, if he's going to propose, the least you can do is say yes.'"

"You would have married me out of pity?" Mark laughs. "_That_ would have been a good marriage," he notes sarcastically.  
>"I would have married you because I loved you," Lexie replies seriously. "And it would have made you happy. And, even if it scared me at the beginning, I reasoned that I'd eventually get used to it." She smiles. "I mean, if <em>Meredith <em>could be in a happy marriage, who says I couldn't?"

"Fair point," Mark chuckles. Lexie watches him with quiet happiness, not feeling the need to break the silence until his expression sobers after a few silent minutes.

"Mark?" She questions softly, lifting her head. She shifts into a sitting position, leaning against the back of the couch. "Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," he replies quietly. "Except…" He sighs quietly, propping himself up against the arm of their couch to look his fiancée in the eye. She feels her rapid pulse slow when she watches a small smile take shape on his lips. "Lex, I never…" He sighs in quiet relief. "I never thought this would happen between us." Mark closes his eyes for a short second, remembering a conversation with his niece that seems like it occurred years ago. _I don't particularly think your aunt wants to get married again, honey. I don't really see that as an option for us._ "After Jackson, I never thought you'd want to marry anyone else ever again."

"You aren't anyone else," Lexie reminds him quietly, watching his eyes open and settle on hers. "You're Mark. You're the love of my life."

Mark smiles at her, and not having anything to say, simply takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly.

"Are you okay with being married to a divorcée?" Lexie asks after he lets their hands fall.

Mark looks over at her, frowning. "Why wouldn't I be?" He wonders.

"I don't know," Lexie replies with a self-conscious shrug. "Do you think I won't take this seriously? Do—Do you think I'll just leave you if we disagree or if we have a fight?"

"One," Mark points out, "I already _know_ you take this seriously. And two, I also know you won't divorce me if we disagree. It was hard enough for you to do the first time around, and you had a damn good reason then." He glances down. "I… I just hope you won't find a good enough reason to leave me."

"I could never leave you," Lexie replies seriously. She stares at him, waiting until he meets her eyes again.

"Good," Mark murmurs after a second. "Because I don't intend to ever let you walk away."

"Good."

They smile at each other and share a brief kiss before Mark asks worriedly, "Since you proposed to me, do I have to wear a diamond?" He grimaces theatrically. " Cause they _really_ don't compliment my skin tone."

Lexie smiles, shaking her head. "No, no, you won't." She pauses. "Actually, I was hoping… Would you be okay if I didn't wear one either?"

Mark shrugs. "I don't mind either way."

"So you're okay with me not having a ring?"

"Well, I'll have to insist on a wedding ring, but no engagement ring?" He shrugs. "Saves me money. You'd only wear it for a year or so, anyway, right?"

"Right..." Lexie bites her lip. "About that," she adds nervously. "I—"

"Though," he interrupts. "You know, I might have to insist on wedding rings, cause I don't want some other guy hitting on you and stealing you away."

"No one could steal me away," Lexie assures him, leaning forward and brushing her lips over his. "I'm yours. And I love you too much to leave you."

"So you'll be here forever?" Mark asks quietly, brushing the hair away from her face gently.

"I'll be here forever," Lexie smiles. "Till death do us part."

He grins happily, leaning forward to engage her in a deep, slow kiss. She breaks away from him gently after a few moment, placing a hand on his chest to separate them.

"But," Lexie says quietly, "I… I wanted to talk to you about the engagement."

"What about it?"

"Well, I was hoping…" She smiles nervously. "I was kind of hoping we could expedite the process and, well...elope?"

"Elope?" Mark laughs. "Do people even still _do_ that? Didn't that die out in like, the eighteenth century?"

"I just want to marry you," Lexie replies, slightly defensive. "This would be quick," she points out. "And I don't want all the pomp and circumstance, I don't want to be engaged for a year so I can draw up seating charts or pick flowers…" She exhales quietly. "I just want _you, _okay?"

Mark smiles gently. "You have me," he replies with a kiss.

"And I want us to be official," Lexie tells him seriously after he pulls back. "I don't want to be Meredith and Derek, I don't want our marriage to be an unwritten rule or a flimsy piece of paper or a ceremony officiated by Elvis—" He interrupts with a laugh. "I want it to be _real_," Lexie stresses earnestly.

Mark smiles, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Then let's make it real." He stares at her with a calculating look in his eyes. "So what? Will a Justice of the Peace work? We don't need to run off to some exotic locale and get married with wreathes of flowers on our heads, do we?"

"Unless you want to, no," Lexie smiles. "And that—a Justice of the Peace—sounds good to me."

"All right then, it's decided."

"Wait, we haven't picked a date."

"Well, do you have any shifts over the holiday?"

Lexie shakes her head. "Not many. I have to be in by eleven tomorrow, and stay till seven, but after that I'm done for the break unless I get paged."

"Perfect. I'll call tomorrow, get an appointment in the morning if possible… And then I can drive you to work," he leans forward, their lips inches apart, "as my wife," he finishes before kissing her. Lexie grins against his lips, pulling his body against hers again.

. . .

"I love you," he whispers in her ear later that night after they'd migrated back to their own bed. Lexie closes her eyes at his words, squeezing them tight and allowing a few tears to fall. Mark reaches out to gently brush them away.

"Please," he whispers quietly as they lie next to each other. He takes her face delicately between his hands. "Please don't cry. Not now."

"I'm not sad," Lexie tells him, her voice as hoarse as his had been when he'd answered her proposal earlier in the night. "I'm not crying because I'm sad, Mark."

"Then why are you crying?" He asks, stroking her wet cheeks. "What are you?"

"I'm in love with you." She smiles up at him as she speaks solemnly, and when she blinks, more happy and disbelieving tears fall down her face and cascade over his fingers. "And I'm just overwhelmed," she continues, "that this is my life."

"It's too much?" He whispers. Lexie can hear the worry and concern in his voice.

She shakes her head. "It's just enough," she assures him softly as she leans forward to kiss him just before pulling him close and overwhelming him, too.

. . .

_The next day_

. . .

"I called in a favor," Mark tells her as he hangs up the phone, "and they can see us today."

"Wow," Lexie whispers. "Today?"

Mark nods. "At ten. I twisted some arms, but…" He shrugs with a smile. "When else am I going to need my pull with a Justice of the Peace?"

Lexie smiles absentmindedly, already lost in thought and planning. "I don't think I even want to know how or why you have pull with a Justice of the Peace in the first place…" Mark grins. "But we still need a witness," she reminds him after a minute. "And all the birth certificates and everything."

"Documents are easy," Mark replies. "But the witness…" He frowns. "Meredith and Derek won't be back until the twenty-fourth…"

Lexie stares at him, hopeful. "You can't ask Callie?"

Mark's reply is an automatic and resounding, "_No_." His voice softens a moment later, "She and Arizona are taking Sofia up to see her grandparents, anyway. So they're both out."

"Oh," Lexie replies quietly.

Mark sighs with exaggerated slowness, and Lexie turns to look at him. "We really need more friends," he tells her sadly.

Lexie stares at him for a few seconds before a triumphant smile spreads over her face. "I can think of one friend that might be able to help us out."

Mark looks up, interested. "Oh, yeah? Who?"

. . .

_9.30 AM_

. . .

"You ready, Lex?" Mark calls from the doorway.

"Yeah," she shouts back. "Just one sec," she adds, slipping in her earrings. "Okay," she calls, stopping to grab her purse as she exits the bathroom. She smiles when she sees him standing by the door, her eyes flitting over the dark suit he's dressed in. "You look great," she smiles, taking his outstretched hand and stepping out the door.

"Yes, I do look great," he replies, locking it behind them. "Where as you," he adds, "are not even wearing a dress."

Lexie rolls her eyes, rechecking that they have all the necessary papers. "Mark, it is _ten _degrees outside," she replies, rifling through her purse quickly. "I'm wearing a white blouse and nice pants—"

"You might as well be wearing jeans," Mark mutters under his breath as they step onto the elevator.

"Mark _Sloan_," Lexie calls, acting outraged through her laughter. "How _dare _you!" She mocks. "I would never wear jeans to my own wedding!"

"You'd think we weren't even getting married today," Mark mutters as they head out to the car. "With all the effort you failed to put into this outfit."

"I am not putting up with this," Lexie replies with a shake of her head, climbing into the passenger seat.

"Now," Mark begins, backing out of the space and exiting the parking lot, "if I saw us walking down the street, I would look at that man and say, 'Wow. He is going somewhere important. He is dressed to the nines.'" Lexie rolls her eyes, waiting for it. "And then I would look at the woman next to him and I would have to look away, I would be so embarrassed."

"Oh, come on."

"I mean, it's like you didn't even try!"

"I'm _wearing _white!" Lexie protests, resisting the urge to punch him in the arm.

"And pants," he adds.

"Did you not feel how cold it was outside, Mark? I'd get hypothermia if I wore a dress."

"And that's why they invented tights."

"Right, because _those _will keep me warm."

"You could've worn boots."

Lexie frowns sourly. "To a wedding? No, I don't think so."

"You should've worn a dress," he stresses.

"And _you_ should not care this much about what I'm wearing," Lexie replies.

"It's our wedding day," Mark reminds her, pulling into an empty space in front of the courthouse. "It's the one day in your entire life that I take notice of your whole outfit and commit it to memory."

"Gee, thanks," Lexie replies, stepping out of the car. "Good to know I have permission to dress in dishrags from now on."

He grins, locking the car as they wait to cross the street. "Dress nude, then you'll have my attention."

She smirks, elbowing him. "You first."

"Gladly," he replies, taking her hand before walking across the pavement.

. . .

"I have been freezing my _ass_ off out here waiting for you two!" Whitney Palmer shouts when she sees Mark and Lexie heading towards her. "How much longer were you going to stand around at home before deciding to grace me with your presence? I thought for sure one of you had backed out, and I was about to, too!"

"We're still early," Lexie replies, unable to smile at the fact that her old lawyer actually showed up. "Thank you so much for coming."

Whitney sighs as they come to stop before her one the sidewalk. "Least I could do," she mutters, dismissing the topic.

"Hi," Mark smiles. He holds out his hand. "I'm—"

"You're Mark Sloan," Whitney finishes for him, taking his hand. His smile widens slightly in surprise, and Whitney rolls her eyes at him.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," she muttes. "Of course I know who you are."

Mark grins, dropping the attorney's hand and turning to his fiancée. "You talked about me?" He questions, amused.

Lexie rolls her eyes at him as well. "No, Mark, I didn't say one word about you."

He grins. "How much did you tell her?"

"Enough," Lexie replies shortly.

He turns to Whitney. "How much?"

"Enough," the lawyer replies, copying the brunette's clipped and serious speech.

Mark shakes his head, laughing slightly. "You two have spent too much time together. You're starting to mimic each other's behavior." He looks over, interested, to his fiancée. "Are you going to dye your hair blonde again?"

Whitney raises her eyebrows. "You were _blonde_?" She repeats in disbelief.

Lexie chuckles, shaking her head. "It was a bad and short-lived decision," she explains.

"As was sleeping with Karev," Mark mutters under his breath.

Lexie wastes no time in slapping his chest with the back of her hand. "Stop it. We're getting married today."

Whitney stares at them for a moment before shaking her head in disbelief. "I feel that I have the obligation to warn you both," she begins, "there's a saying, about these types of things." She eyes them each in slow succession. "Marriages that start at the courthouse—"

"—end at the courthouse," Lexie finishes for her, right on cue. "Yes, I am well aware."

"Me too," Mark replies. He grins at Whitney. "So when we get divorced, does she automatically get you?" He asks, gesturing between his fiancée and her former attorney. "Cause I think you'd really be able to help me when it comes to—"

"Mark," Lexie interrupts. "_Inside._"

He chuckles to himself, squeezing her hand quickly and kissing her temple lightly before stepping inside. Lexie sighs in exasperation, sending an apologetic glance Whitney's way before moving to follow after him. Her former attorney's hand on her arm stops her.

"If you remember," Whitney whispers in her ear as they step inside, "I said talk to him about a _baby_, not talk to him about getting married!"

"Yeah, well…" Lexie shrugs with a small smile. "I realized on the way home that I couldn't exactly ask for one without asking for the other."

Whitney perks up. "So did you ask him, then? About a baby?" What did he say?" She gestures to the courthouse. "Is this a celebration or a compromise?"

Lexie shakes her head, putting a finger to her lips. "I haven't asked. Not yet."

. . .

Fifteen minutes later, after all of the IDs and certificates have been looked over and deemed appropriate, an irritable middle-aged man with a dark receding hairline begins the real paperwork. He fills out all the necessary sections in silence before turning abruptly to Lexie.

"Would you like to change your name?"

"N—" Mark begins, only to be cut off by Lexie's decisive, "Yes."

Mark's head swivels immediately to hers. "What?" He asks, more than a little taken aback. They had never talked about her taking on his last name, and since she'd kept her maiden name when she married Jackson, Mark had suspected her preference still held true. "You want to change it?"

The Justice sighs temperamentally. "This decision was supposed to be made _prior_ to your appointment," he reminds them sourly.

"It was," Lexie replies firmly. "I'm taking his name." She glances to her soon-to-be-husband. "And I'm adding it to mine."

"Oh," Mark replies, smiling at the idea. When he faces forward again, the Justice is staring straight at him. "Right," he continues quickly, "you told me that."

. . .

"You regretting this?" Mark asks a few minutes later they stand before the Justice of the Peace. Whitney remains off to the side, a few feet away as she watches the proceedings.

"No," Lexie replies, not being able to hold back a smile at his light tone. "I proposed to _you_, remember? I know I'm doing here."

"Okay, then," Mark agrees easily, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Excuse me," a voice interrupts them just as their lips are about to meet. "Please, wait for the command."

"Right," Lexie replies, blushing. "Sorry." The Justice of the Peace glances down at her script, and in that moment, Mark grabs Lexie's hand, squeezing it quickly, and winks at his soon-to-be wife. She bites her lip to hide a smile, but when the Justice turns to Mark to begin the proceedings, she stops trying to hide her happiness and lets her bright eyes meet his as a joyous smile spreads across her face.

. . .

"I honestly cannot thank you enough," Lexie is telling Whitney as they walk back out into the chilly morning. "We had no one else to ask—"

"Don't fall over yourself trying to thank me," Whitney smiles. "I was happy to do it."

Lexie glances over her shoulder, noticing Mark having a quick word with the Justice inside. "Really?" She asks quietly, turning back to her old lawyer.

Whitney nods. "Definitely," she smiles. "It was nice to see you got your own happy ending."

Mark grins, walking up behind the two women. "Oh, this is far from over," he disagrees, placing his hands on either side of Lexie's hips.

"And _that's _my cue to leave," the blonde notes with a short chuckle, already stepping away. Lexie smiles, watching her go. She looks up when she hears Mark call the lawyer's name.

Whitney turns around, surprised to hear Mark calling her name, not Lexie, and even more surprised to see that he's walking towards her now. "Yes?" She asks.

"I…" He exhales sharply, staring into the blonde's eyes. "I just wanted to say thank-you," he tells her. "You…" He glances over his shoulder quickly, his blue eyes landing on those brown ones for a moment. His lips curve up involuntarily. "You have no idea what your involvement in Lexie's life means to me."

Whitney smiles delicately, holding out her hand. "I'm always happy to help, Dr. Sloan."

Mark takes it, giving her hand a firm shake. "Again," he repeats, looking her in the eye. "Thank you."

Whitney nods, letting go and taking a step back. She catches Lexie's eye for a moment before heading down the sidewalk. Lexie walks slowly up to her husband's side, bumping her hip lightly against his as they stand side by side.

"I like that woman," Mark notes after a silent minute.

Lexie nods. "She's a good egg, that one."

Mark looks over to her, dropping the serious act as a small smile takes shape on his face. "I think you should inspect your ring more closely," he whispers in her ear before walking forward. Lexie's brow furrows, and she hastens to catch up to him. She holds out her left hand as they walk, staring at the plain gold band.

"What about it?" She wonders aloud. "It's a ring."

"Well," Mark suggests, "why don't you look inside it, then?"

"What?" Lexie asks, glancing up at him. "Why?"

"Just look."

Lexie stops walking for a moment, leaving Mark to loiter a few feet away while she uses the fingers of her right hand to twist the ring off. She turns it clockwise in her hands to read the words carved on the inside. Inscribed on the ring are six tiny words, capitalized large enough to read easily with the naked eye.

_I will always be yours._

Lexie stares down at the ring, turning it in her hands as she reads the message over and over again. She can't help grinning when she looks over at her husband for clarification. "Does yours say that too?"

Mark shakes his head, scrunching his nose in distaste. "Nah, I'm a man," he replies, puffing his chest and tipping his shoulders back as she puts the ring back on before taking his hand and heading down the street to the car. "What yours says is lame and girly. I would never wear something that says that."

"Right," Lexie replies, her tone laced with knowing sarcasm. "Then what does yours say?"

"Mine reads: _Dude, you scored a ten. Congrats, bro._"

"You're lying," Lexie laughs, leaning back against his shoulder. "And it would only say that if you had Alex engrave your ring."

"Like I'd trust Karev with anything even _half _this important," Mark scoffs. He shudders. "I still get chills when I know he's in the OR."

"Oh, stop," Lexie tells him, slapping his arm lightly. "He's a good surgeon."

"You're only saying that cause he was your partner-in-crime for peds."

Lexie laughs nervously. "What?"

"Oh, come on," Mark replies, rolling his eyes at her. "Don't think I don't know about you two double-teaming the difficult patients." He grins. "And then having fights about who would get to operate in the resident's lounge."

Lexie frowns. "I forgot about that. He still owes me an appendectomy. He stole that one right out from under me, you know! I worked on that kid _forever_."

Mark smiles, leading her towards the car. "I'm sure you'll get him back."

"Hey," Lexie replies, pulling them both to a standstill just before turn the corner to their parking space. She holds up her left hand, facing the back of her fingers towards him. "You did this?"

Mark nods. "I did."

She bites her lip, tilting her head to look at him before reaching up and kissing him lovingly. "That's so sweet of you," she says when she pulls back. "Thank you."

Mark shrugs it off. "We had to get rings," he replies. "All I did was buy some."

"No." Lexie shakes her head, barely biting back a smile. "No, you told the jeweler to put this in there, didn't you? These exact words?" Her eyes flicker up furtively to look at him. "And you paid for it, too, I'm sure."

"Nope," Mark replies, popping the 'p' with his lips. "I just picked the font."

Lexie's smile widens, knowing he doesn't want to admit it. "Well… It's a beautiful font, then."

"Thank you. I spent a while trying to find the perfect one."

Lexie squeezes his hand, walking forward again. "I'm sure you did." She links her arm through his and rests her cheek against his shoulder again as they begin walking forward. "Hey," she murmurs a second later, looking over to her husband. "We're married, Mark."

Mark glances over, catching her eye. "We're married, Lex." He grins at her a second later. "_Finally,_" he adds with amused half-fake-exasperation. She chuckles quietly, wrapping her arm around his back as they head to the car.

. . .

"I can take you to work now," Mark says as they settle into their seats a couple minutes later.

"No," Lexie replies softly. "No, I don't want to go to work." Mark smiles, shaking his head despite her serious tone. He's about to start the car when her hand reaches over to rest on his leg. He glances over, confused at the continued solemnity of her behavior "No, take me home."

"Lexie," Mark mutters. "You have Lauren and all your other patients to deal with…"

"Take me home, Mark," Lexie whispers, shifting her hand to the inside of his thigh. Mark's eyes fly over to hers. "I'm your wife now and I'm asking you to please take me home," she whispers, her voice edging towards desperate. "Please."

Mark sighs quietly, holding her gaze for moment before reaching into the inner breast pocket of his jacket. A second later, he's holding his phone between his fingers, pointing it at her. "You know," he mutters, leaning towards his wife over the console. "You really don't look too good…" Lexie reaches out to take the phone, catching onto his train of thought, but his lips meet hers before she can grab it. Her hand disappears from his thigh a second later to draw his face towards hers and deepen the kiss. "Maybe you should call a doctor," he suggests huskily against her lips a few seconds later, leaning towards her.

"Mm, good thing I have one in my building," Lexie replies between kisses. "I'm sure he can prescribe me all _kinds _of things." Her teeth nip at his lower lip as her fingers slide between the hairs at the back of his neck. "Like staying in bed all day."

"Bed rest is good," Mark murmurs back, kissing her one final time before pulling back. He smiles. "But to do that, we might have to get to an actual bed."

Lexie glances around inside the car. "What? You saying this isn't suitable?"

Mark grins, starting the ignition. "I think one of us would break something if we tried it in here."

"It's worth investigating," Lexie insists.

"Patience," Mark smiles, taking her hand within his. "We'll be home soon." He glances over at her before pulling out of the parking space. "And I promise you that when we get there, you won't have to wait a second more."

Lexie leans forward, kissing his cheek. "You see?" She grins, settling back into her seat and buckling her seatbelt. "_This_ is why I married you."

"I knew I was only good for sex," Mark states, holding a shaking finger aloft while his other remains on the steering wheel. "I knew it."

"Yes," Lexie snorts, taking his phone and dialing the number for Seattle Grace reception. "This last _decade_ has really proven that fact, huh? All you're needed for is sex, nothing more." She laughs happily. "No emotions at all. No strings attached."

"We've all got our strengths," Mark smirks. "As for emotions, who needs 'em?"

"Certainly not us," Lexie replies. She reaches over a second later, putting her hand on his arm. "I love you," she whispers softly as the phone rings in her ear.

"Emotion," Mark warns with a smile, catching her eye quickly before he pulls into traffic. "We better call this off. It's getting too serious for me."

Lexie looks back over, grinning. She's about to reply when she hears the line _click _open. "Yes, hello," Lexie coughs into the receiver as the line clicks. "Hi, Sharon is that—" She fake-heaves. "—you?"

"You're bad at that," Mark mutters.

"Yes, I'm quite—sick," Lexie coughs into the mouthpiece. "How c—could you te—ell?" She manages between coughs.

"Is she actually buying that?" Mark asks, his eyebrows drawn down. "You're a terrible actress; you sound so fake. And you would think Sharon didn't even work at a hospital for buying this."

"Stop making fun of me or else you're getting _nothing_," Lexie warns with a hand over the mouthpiece.

"Threatens the woman who's calling in sick so she can get laid," Mark adds. "Something tells me you won't pass up sex just to prove a point." He smiles to himself as she shakes her head in what he knows is only mock-annoyance. "Think about all those lives your risking just cause you can't wait a few hours," he points out a second later. "Think about all those diseased children you're leaving. Their sad, sick, little faces… I bet they've been waiting for hours, hoping and praying that you'll show up be able to cure all their life-threatening diseases."

"I'd shove you _so hard _right now if you weren't driving," Lexie threatens darkly.

"Shove me anyway," Mark smirks, glancing over to her. "I dare you. Maybe we'll crash and then one of us might _actually_ end up where she's supposed to be today."

"Come on, Mark. Break the rules with m—Yes," Lexie coughs into the phone. "Richard knows? …Okay, thank you." As she puts on another coughing fit, Mark pulls into their building's parking lot. "Tell Dr. Robbins I'll, uh, I'll be back tomorrow. …Oh, thanks," Lexie hiccups into the phone.

"What disease are you supposed to be mimicking?" Mark asks critically. "Coughing, vomiting, and hiccupping?"

"Bye," Lexie whispers into the receiver.

"Oh, and now you've lost your voice. Naturally."

Lexie ends the call, tossing the phone to him. "No, I haven't lost my voice." She grins a second later. "But I've been planning on it."

"I think I can accommodate you with that," Mark replies, opening the door and stepping outside while he tucks his phone back in the pocket of his jacket. "If you'd like to follow me upstairs," he trails off, sweeping an arm towards their building.

"I'll race you there," Lexie grins, stepping forward to walk beside him.

Mark takes one look at her before sprinting to the door.

"Mark!" Lexie calls after him. "I didn't mean an actual race, you know! That was a joke!"

"Don't be a sore loser!" He shouts back.

"I'm in heels!" She protests.

"You mean you're in quitter shoes, Little Grey?"

Lexie stares at his jogging-in-place form before groaning. "Argh!" Lexie calls. She bends down, slipping off her shoes before sprinting through the wet, slushy ground barefoot. "Fine!" She yells, running after him. Mark bursts out laughing at the sight of her practically hopping up and down across the length of the entire parking lot. "Happy now?"

He shakes his head in laughter, unable to answer.

"I may have just gotten frostbite," Lexie says as she passes him. "But I'm gonna beat you there." She grins at him and she sprints for the doors. "And then you'll have to make up for lost time."

"Oh, no you don't," Mark calls, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her up into the air.

"No!" Lexie laughs, kicking her feet in the air. "No, I was winning! You cheated!"

"You were never winning," Mark smiles, twisting his head around her neck to kiss her cheek softly.

"Put me down," Lexie calls in laughter. "I was on the verge of beating you!"

Mark grins, turning her in his arms to share a loving kiss.

"Wanna go upstairs?" He asks softly when their lips part a long minute later.

A small smile spreads over Lexie's face and she nods quickly, kissing him once more before he sets on back on her feet. They walk into their apartment building, immediately relishing in the warmth from the building's heating. Just as Lexie's about to head to the elevators, Mark grabs her hand and steers them towards the receptionist's desk.

He's wearing his characteristic smirk when he eyes the young woman behind the counter. "I'm going to ask that we're not disturbed today."

Tara, the receptionist, chuckles at him. "You know this isn't a hotel, right, Dr. Sloan?"

Mark grins, glancing to his wife. "You know, sometimes I forget."

Tara stares at them, mystified. "Okay," she begins, "I have to ask: Did you guys have some big surgery success today or something? Because I don't _ever _remember seeing either of you running here. Let alone yelling."

Mark and Lexie glance at each other, clueless looks on their faces.

"Nope," Mark replies, turning back to the receptionist. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay, sure," Tara smiles, waving them towards the elevators.

"After you," Mark tells his wife, placing a hand on her back to escort her towards the elevators. Just as they're almost out of sight, they hear a shrill 'Ohmygod!' from behind them.

Mark chuckles. "Ah, so she saw," he mutters, stepping onto the lift.

"Well, I wasn't exactly hiding anything," Lexie replies tilting her hand where you can see her wedding band glow in the fluorescent light of the elevator.

"Me neither," Mark smiles, removing his left hand from her back.

"I knew there was a reason for that," Lexie smiles before jumping on her tiptoes and sneaking a kiss on him. "I love you, but sweetheart, you're not too chivalrous."

"Chivalrous?" Mark questions.

"You know, the whole opening-doors, hand-on-back, murdering-dragons-while-rescuing-fair-maidens types of things."

"Is that a complaint?" Mark asks, stepping closer and lowering his mouth to hers.

"My only complaint is that this elevator is so slow," Lexie replies a few seconds later when she can catch a breath.

"Personally," Mark murmurs, moving his lips to her neck. "I don't seem to mind."

"_I_ mind," Lexie tells him, her hands reaching up to the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer. Just as she does so, the elevator chimes their arrival and the doors open.

Mark grins, taking her hand and leading the way down the hall. "Looks like even the elevator's trying to please you today," he notes before stopping at their door.

Lexie smiles, leaning against the wall as he searches for the door key. During those few silent seconds it takes for him to locate the key unlock the door, Mark can feel anxious energy rolling off of his wife in palpable, continuous waves. Lexie grips his hand tighter when the lock clicks open and Mark gets the impression that if he'd taken just a second longer, she wouldn't have waited until they were in the privacy of their own home to start undressing.

. . .

The second the door closes, they jump together, pulling each other close as if the connection between them is actual magnetism and not just overwhelming attraction. Mark's arms wrap around her back, pulling her entire body flush against his. She can feel his prominent arousal against her, and she breaks from the kiss with an excited laugh.

"Eager, huh?" She smirks happily.

"Don't taunt me, Grey," he grins.

"Sloan," she replies with a smile.

It takes him a second to realize that she's correcting him and not simply stating his name. It's hers now, too. _Lexie Grey Sloan._She's his. Officially. Something about the sound of those names strung together makes him crash his lips to hers, and he could feel her laugh again at his forceful insistence. She reaches up, tearing off his jacket in response and proving that she's just as enthusiastic.

"Be a good husband and take me to bed," she whispers between kisses. "Please." He pulls back for a fraction of a second to look her in the eye, and they both come up panting. The happiness on both their faces is leaves them both without words, and instead of trying to speak, Mark quickly pulls her close again, hefting her easily into his arms. Lexie wraps her legs around his waist as they make their way to the bedroom, laughing and moaning in equal measure.

. . .

"You're right," Lexie murmurs against her husband's chest as the afternoon approaches.

"Hm?" Mark asks, glancing down at the woman resting comfortably in his arms. "I'm right about what?"

She turns her head, tilting it back to catch his eye. "I _do_ feel kind of bad for bailing on my kids. They were expecting to see me today."

He smirks, ducking down to kiss her. "Well, now I feel duly appreciated. Thank you for that, dear wife."

"You know what I meant," Lexie replies, unable to stop herself from grinning at the word 'wife.'

"Should I have made you go to work, then?" Mark asks, kissing her the curve of her ear gently as she settles her head back against his bare chest.

"Pft," Lexie scoffs. "And miss out on today? Are you kidding me?"

"That's what I thought," Mark smiles before releasing her and shifting himself out from under her body. Lexie watches him with a confused expression, and he can see the beginning of a pout playing on her lips at being left alone in bed. Nonetheless, he gets to his feet, grabs a pair of sweatpants from an open drawer, and pulls them on. "Come on," he tells her, curing his fingers in enticement.

"What?" Lexie asks, trailing him with her eyes as he walks around the bed towards the door. "Where are you going?"

"Food," Mark calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room. "It's almost one."

"No," Lexie complains, her protesting voice carrying to the rest of the apartment and easily reaching his ears. "Come back. Stay in bed with me. All day, remember? You said we wouldn't leave," she calls out with indignation.

"An hour won't kill you," Mark calls back. "And we should eat."

"_Fine_," Lexie groans theatrically as she gets to her feet. Grabbing one of the blankets from their bed, she wraps it around her shoulders and follows him into the kitchen. She watches from the counter as he rummages around in the fridge. She sighs loudly, but it doesn't cause him to turn, and after glaring at his back for a few silent seconds, Lexie realized that he won't be coming back to bed anytime soon. Feeling a chill penetrate through the nearby window, she clutches the blanket around her shoulders closer and steps towards the wall to inspect the incoming weather.

"Okay, we've got a ton of leftovers," Mark informs his wife as she wanders to the tall window in the corner of the kitchen and peers through the glass pane. With an involuntary smile spreading across her face, Lexie watches snowflake after snowflake falls past their window in contented silence. "Spaghetti, some pizza from Wednesday, that chicken thing you made…" Mark continues listing their options before frowning and turning around. "You aren't listening, are you?" He inquires, noticing her preoccupation by the window.

"Hm?" Lexie replies, still staring out the window at the winter weather.

"You aren't listening to me."

"No, I'm not," Lexie replies distractedly, turning to look at him. "What did you say?"

"All we have is boring food. Want to order something?"

"I would, but…" She walks towards the fridge, taking his hand and pulling him toward the window she was just looking out of. "Look at that," Lexie smiles, wrapping her around his waist as she positions him in front of the clear pane. She rests her chin on his shoulder, tipping it towards the snow falling outside their window. "Look how beautiful it is."

"It's white," Mark notes dryly, scrutinizing the flurries of snow in the air with distaste. "And it'll cause a load of car crashes tonight."

"It's snowing," Lexie replies with a smile, ignoring his negative comments. "It's the first snowstorm of the year. It's so pretty. And I love snow."

Mark turns in her arms with a cheesy grin. "_You're _so pretty. And I love _you._"

"Hm," Lexie grunts. "Original." She pauses for a moment, staring at him. A smile widens on her lips. "Hey, do you want to light a fire?"

"I haven't used it years," Mark murmurs, surreptitiously glancing to the fireplace in their living room.

"What?" Lexie replies, following his gaze with a smile. "Why not? You love them."

"No," Mark corrects. "_You _love them."

"No, no," Lexie argues. "You always lit them when we were together."

"Yes," he smiles. "I know I did. That's because I knew how much you liked them."

Lexie smiles, leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips as she hugs the blanket close to her body. "Let's make one," she says, walking towards the fireplace. "It'll only take a second."

Fifteen minutes later, they're still trying to figure out how to get the fire started. The wood in the fireplace is dry enough, but it's covered in a lawyer of dust about an inch thick. In fact, as Lexie looks closer, she realizes that the entire fireplace seems to have fallen victim to complete neglect—it's covered in dirt, dust, and grime on every imaginable inch.

"What's wrong with this thing, Mark?" Lexie complains as they continue cleaning it out. "It's completely dirty."

"I told you it hasn't been used in years."

"Yeah, but it looks like it's been left alone—"

"—about a decade, right?" He finishes softly. Mark glances over to his wife, watching as her lips part slowly in realization. He stares into her eyes, knowing they'll soon fill with either sympathy or pity. And Mark Sloan doesn't want to see either. So he shrugs lightly, wanting to play it off but knowing she wants the truth. And he's willing to give it to her. "The fires reminded me of you, is all," he admits softly, scraping a few bits of charred twigs into his hand. "So that's why it's dirty. I didn't really want to have any if you weren't going to be with me—_really_ with me, I mean."

"Oh, Mark," Lexie whispers. "I didn't—"

"Lex," Mark murmurs softly, cutting in and meeting her eyes. "Please don't be sad, please don't be sorry, and _please_ don't pity me." Lexie opens her mouth to interrupt, but he continues before she can speak. "This is what happened, okay: you left, I missed you, you came back, I no longer missed you. And then we went and got _married_ today—" He smiles at the word. "—which means I will _never_ be missing you again." He stares at her, as if waiting for a contradiction they both know won't be coming. "This is a _happy_ day, okay, Lex, and I am _not _going to let it be ruined by the past. No past, not anymore. We're done with that. Today starts our future, and that's all that matters."

Lexie stares at her husband for a silent minute before giving him a small smile. "Alright, then," she replies easily. "Help me find a broom and a dustpan, please. And Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"I like your attitude."

. . .

An hour later, they've swept, cleaned, stocked, and lit the now-working fireplace. Mark and Lexie lie on the floor, in their own bed made up of an assortment of different sheets, blankets, and pillows as well as various Tupperware containers with half-eaten and now-cold leftovers from the fridge.

"So is this a perfect day?" Mark asks his wife as they lay spread out with their bare feet lying a few feet from the quietly crackling fire. She's clutching a pillow beneath her head, and the rest of her body is hidden beneath a thick duvet cover. She bends her legs up occasionally, lifting her feet into the air behind her to warm the fronts of her bare legs.

"This a perfect day," Lexie whispers back, turning her head towards her husband while resting on a thick pillow. Mark leans forward, pushing the blanket off her shoulders so he can kiss along the gentle curve of her upper back for a quiet minute.

"But…" He adds after a moment, drawing out the word and letting his breath fan out over her skin.

Lexie smiles secretly before flipping over to see in his face. "You know me too well," she murmurs, brushing her fingers by his ear softly before burrowing her hand into the small hairs on the back of his neck. He leans down, dipping his lips to meet hers.

"That's my job," he whispers against her lips before kissing them without even the slightest hurry. "So?" He asks softly a minute later, pulling back a few inches to meet her eyes. "What's missing? What do you need?"

Lexie bites the inside of her bottom lip softly, nervous for the first time today as she stares up at her husband.

"What is it, baby?" Mark asks, his calm eyes holding her nervous gaze. "Just tell me, whatever it—"

"That's just it," Lexie interrupts in a whisper.

"What?" He asks, brushing her hair out of her face gently and kissing her softly in an attempt to calm her. "You can't tell me?" He asks between kisses. "You don't know?"

"No," Lexie murmurs, taking his hand within hers and folding their fingers together carefully. She stares down at their entwined hands as she speaks. "Baby," she whispers, her voice barely discernable above the quite sounds of the fire crackling a few feet away. "I… I want a baby. Mark, I want to start trying." She looks up at him finally, barely able to manage a small smile because of how anxious she blinks slowly at her, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment. When he opens them, she can see tears swimming in his eyelids, magnifying his sea-blue pupils. "I want to start trying now," she tells him, unable to raise her voice yet still managing to accentuate the last word.

"Alexandra," Mark whispers, his voice barely audible. "You mean that? You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Lexie replies, trying to sound confident despite her voice sounding scarcely louder than the quietest whisper. "When—when I asked you to marry me, what I really wanted to know was if you wanted to have a baby with me. Because, Mark—I, I want a baby. I want _your_ baby. _Our _baby."

"Lexie," Mark murmurs, holding her cheeks in his hands and brushing his thumbs over her skin gently. "Lex, I…"

"I've imagined it so many times," Lexie whispers, taking his face in her hands as well and stroking his familiar skin. "And I want to stop imagining. I want my dreams to be real." She pauses, feeling her eyes overflow, and drops her hands to wipe her face. "I—I want to have children with you—my husband and the love of my life. I want a family with the man I'll never leave, that I've never really left. I'm—I'm yours, you know that, right? More than I ever was his, I'm yours. I've always been yours and I'll—I'll always be yours." She pauses to swallow some of her emotion, and Mark realizes that he'll never be able to find the words to express his gratitude and love for the woman in front of him. "And—and it's true," Lexie continues after a moment. "T—Today _is _a perfect day." A tiny, half-anxious smile appears on her face. "We should start trying for the perfect baby on a perfect day."

"Okay," Mark whispers in agreement, placing his hands beneath her shoulders and pulling her gently upwards to sit in front of him.

"Okay," Lexie whispers back, her jumpy nerves turning the affirmation into a question. She reaches forward, her hand shaking, to hold his face in her fingertips again.

"Don't worry, Lex," he consoles her softly, moving closer to his wife. "There's nothing to worry about, love. Not now, not anymore."

"No, I know," she replies, using her other hand to wipe her face. "I'm—I'm not worried. I'm just… I'm _happy_." She looks up at him with a watery smile. "You're my husband and we're going to be a family and I am just—I—I'm _so happy_," she whispers. "I have everything I've ever wanted," she sniffs, causing more tears to fall down her face. "Everything I've been too afraid to ask for, to chase after—I have it _all_ now. I have _everything_ with you, everything I've ever wanted."

Mark smiles gently at her, drawing her lips gently towards his with a hand that stretches from his wife's cheek to her neck. "I have everything I've ever wanted, too," he whispers against her lips. "You've given me everything I've ever needed or wanted… and so much more." Lexie pulls away after a few brief seconds, resting her forehead against his.

"I love you," she whispers, watching as his lips part in a smile of understated happiness.

"I love you too," he echoes, pressing his lips against hers. Lexie sighs quietly into the kiss, and as it deepens moments later, her hands reach up to grip the muscles of his back. Lexie pulls him close instinctively, already falling back against the sheets spread out on the floor. Mark quickly covers her body with his, and neither bothers stilling their movements to catch a breath in the process.

. . .

**_Touch me,_**

**_Take me to that other place_**

**_Teach me, now_**

**_Reach me,_**

**_I know I'm not a hopeless case._**

_. . ._

**_It's a beautiful day_**

_Sky falls, you feel like—_

**_It's a beautiful day;_**

**_Don't let it get away._**

_. . ._

_Author's Note: Please review. I'd really love to hear what you guys thought of this chapter._

_PS: I've edited this section so many times while listening to "Beautiful Day" that whenever I hear the song now, I immediately think of this last scene :)_


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32:**

_Author's Note: Thank you all for your great reviews! Please keep them coming!_

_. . ._

"The fire's died down," Mark notes quietly later that afternoon. He moves to get to his feet to get more wood, but her hand on his chest stops him.

"Don't go," she whispers.

"I'm just going to put wood on the fire," he replies, shifting upwards. "I'll be five feet away."

"I said don't go," Lexie replies, putting both hands on his shoulders and pushing him back down to the floor. She rests her head on his chest, using her weight to ensure that he won't get up. "Don't move."

"Lex…"

"I don't want you to go anywhere," Lexie says softly. "I don't want you to leave me."

"I am _never_ going to leave you," he replies seriously.

"I know that," she whispers.

He exhales slowly, and his breath blows through her hair. She shifts her head, pressing a light kiss to his chest. "So why the concern?" He asks a moment later.

"I just want you close to me," Lexie murmurs. "Is that so bad," she asks softly, "to want to be close to my husband? Is that such a crime?"

She hears him sigh softly, but there's no exasperated tinge to the gesture. "It's not a crime at all," he says softly. A moment later, she feels him relax and lay his head back on the pillow. He shifts beneath her, moving to wrap an arm around her body as she lies atop him.

"Do you… Do you think we made a baby?" Lexie asks softly after a few quiet minutes.

"I don't know," Mark replies truthfully, feeling his lips curve upwards at just the mention. "Do you want to try again?" He asks quietly. He can feel her nod against his chest.

"Just give me a moment," she replies with a yawn.

"Take all the time you need."

Lexie smiles and kisses his skin quickly before turning her head to meet his eyes. "I didn't mean I need time like that," she replies, causing him to smirk at the implication. She maneuvers her body above his, folding her hands over his chest and resting her chin atop them. She looks into his eyes, her loving gaze matching his. "I'd just like to lie here with you for a while."

"We can do that."

Lexie smiles at him briefly before closing her eyes and spreading her hands flat across his chest, and laying her head against him. His arms wrap around her a moment later, his fingers linked together around her side.

"This is nice," she whispers, her warm breath ghosting over his skin. She hears him hum appreciatively in agreement, and when she glances up to him a few seconds later, she notices his eyes are closed, too.

"I'm so happy you're my husband," she murmurs a few minutes later. She feels his arms tighten around her in response, but she doesn't open her eyes. "So, so happy." Lexie smiles to herself, waiting for his grip to loosen. It doesn't, and after a couple seconds, she opens her eyes to find him staring right at her.

"You have…" He swallows roughly, but he doesn't avert his gaze as she stares into his eyes. "You have no idea how happy I am," he manages quietly, "that you're my wife. No idea at all."

A radiant smile spreads over her face, and he watches the edges of her eyes crinkle with joy. "Finally, huh?"

He gives her a brief smile, but his tone is serious and quiet when he speaks. "Finally."

Lexie leans forward, touching her lips to his softly. "Let's try again," she whispers against his lips. When she pulls back, she's relieved to see the half-sad look in his eyes from moments ago has disappeared. He's grinning up at her, and she can't help but let her mouth mirror the gesture. "Third time's a charm, right?"

"Right," Mark replies, kissing her back and pulling her body up so it's level with his. "Third time is definitely a charm."

. . .

"So _that's_ why you were so desperate for me to take you home," Mark realizes an hour later. "It wasn't because you wanted me, but you…" He smiles, looking over at his wife. "You wanted to start a family."

"Well, I _did _want you…"

"Liar," Mark smiles, kissing her. "You just wanted my genes." He pauses, studying her. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I was nervous."

Mark smiles down at her. "Why? I wouldn't have said 'no.' We've talked about children; you know I want this as much as you do. And if you'd told me," he adds, "we could have stopped using protection hours ago."

"I wasn't so much nervous about your reaction, but just… The actual act."

Mark's eyebrows furrow. "What? Sex?"

"No, no, of…of raising a child. I—" Lexie breaks off, biting her lip. "What if I can't do it?"

Mark cracks a smile. "Well, it may be too late for that." Lexie chuckles, leaning against him. He turns his head to the left, kissing her forehead. "And you can do it. You'll be an excellent mother. I've seen you with all those kids."

"Those are patients," Lexie replies, automatically knowing what he's referring to. "That's different."

"And yet you're still so loving with them. You act like you're Lauren's second mother." Lexie looks up at him, her face open and expectant for him to continue. "So if you're that good with strangers, who's to say you won't be able to raise your own child?"

"I don't know."

"Don't listen to any of the voices in your head," Mark tells her. "They're all wrong."

Lexie smiles softly at him before it stretches into a smirk. "They're _all_ wrong?" She asks. "Really?"

"Well, this isn't going to be dirty at all," Mark notes, lying back as she shifts to crouch above him.

"Even the ones telling me to make use of the limited time we have left in the day?"

"I see I've been a bad influence on you," Mark notes, bending forward to kiss her. Lexie smiles, tugging him closer.

"You've been the best influence I've had in my life," she corrects him in a hushed whisper. "Don't ever think otherwise."

. . .

A few hours later, after they're finished up the rest of the leftovers for dinner, Mark and Lexie are sitting in their living room, their backs propped against the bottom of the couch and their legs spread out against the floor. Lexie studies the pale-red coals in the fireplace for a long while before breaking the silence with a quiet murmur.

"What if I'm a terrible wife?" She wonders aloud, never averting her eyes from the smoking embers.

"Not possible," Mark replies automatically. He stares at her until she finally turns her head to look at him. "You're already a perfect one," he informs her.

"Come on," Lexie mutters. "I'm serious. What if I'm…" She lowers her voice, as if scared someone would overhear, and stares at the floor between them as she speaks. "What if I'm as awful to you…as I was to him?"

"That isn't going to happen," Mark tells her firmly.

Lexie bites her lip, her dark eyes flicking up to his, desperate for assurance. "How do you know that?"

"I just do. I can feel it."

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure," Mark replies. He leans towards her, placing a hand lightly on her cheek. "Come on," he murmurs. "I can think of plenty of wifely things you're more than qualified at," he whispers, capturing her lips with his.

"Oh, I see," Lexie replies when her lips are free minutes later. "You're just being nice to me to get some."

"Caught me."

"And here I thought you had such good intentions, like trying to elevate my self-esteem."

"Lex," Mark pulls back with a smile. "When have I _ever _had good intentions?" She smiles in reply, kissing him gently before he pulls back. He sighs quietly after a moment, eying her. "You're worried about being a terrible wife?" He asks quietly. "What about me? I have no idea how to be someone's husband. At least you have experience."

"Right," Lexie replies darkly. "Experience at being a bitch."

Mark shrugs. "Experience is experience."

They sit in silence for a minute before Lexie reaches over, laying a hand on his leg. "Hey," she whispers, catching his eye. "You'll be a great husband, okay? I know you will. You'll take to it just like you take to everything else." He nods, but Lexie can tell from the way he averts his eyes from hers that he's not completely convinced. She scoots towards him, moving closer until their sides are touching. "Hey," she says again, putting a hand on his cheek to pull his gaze back to hers. She stares at him seriously for a quiet moment before whispering, "You could never be anything but perfect to me, okay?"

Mark draws in a quiet breath, holding her stare for many minutes before finally closing his eyes. "I just…" He expels the air in his lungs noisily, finally opening his eyes to look at her. "I just don't want you to wake up tomorrow or in ten years and regret this."

"Mark, I could never regret this. I could never regret you. You know that."

He nods. "No, I know. I do know. I just…" He sighs again, holding her gaze with his pained blue eyes. "Do you ever get the feeling that this is all too good to be true?"

Lexie smiles softly at him. "All the time," she whispers.

Mark closes his eyes, relieved, at least, to know that they're on the same page.

"But you know what?" Lexie murmurs a moment later. Mark opens his eyes, waiting for her to finish. "This is true. This is real." She takes his hand in hers. "And it might be too good, but that doesn't mean that it's going to fall apart." A smile tugs at her sides of her mouth. "It just means that we've finally worked things out. We've finally figured out our lives, figured out our life _together_."

It takes a few seconds, but soon Lexie can see a smile on her husband's face as well. "It took us long enough, huh?"

Lexie laughs quietly, leaning forward to kiss him briefly. Knowing the momentary crisis has been averted, she nestles her head against his shoulder. "All those lost years just makes the rest of our time together that much more meaningful," she reminds him quietly.

Mark smiles, leaning over to kiss the crown of her head. "I like your attitude, too," he notes.

. . .

"Zola will never forgive me," Mark murmurs late that night as they lie in bed together. Lexie rolls over, yawning, to look at him in the darkness of their bedroom. "I promised her she could throw the petals when we got married," he explains at the lost expression on her face.

Lexie laughs, slightly confused. "What?"

"You remember that first dinner, when Meredith and Derek came over?" Lexie nods. "Well, after we were done eating, Zola cornered me in the kitchen—"

"She's a child," Lexie cuts in. "And you are a grown man. She did not corner you. Don't blame this on a little girl."

"You know how she gets with those puppy-dog eyes," Mark shoots back. "Anyway," he continues, "she _cornered_ _me_, looked up at me with those sad, longing eyes… And asked that, when we got married, if she could be the flower girl."

"What?" Lexie sputters, laughing. "That was not two months after I came home!"

"She's just a little girl," Mark replies with a smile. "What do you expect? We were two adults who loved each other and were living together… I'm surprised she didn't have someone officiate the ceremony right there and then." Lexie shakes her head in amusement. "Plus," he adds, "she wanted to get the monopoly on our wedding since Sofia stole the spotlight in Aria's."

"Ah, I get it now." Lexie frowns a moment later. "Now I feel kind of bad about our quick little wedding."

"Eh, don't worry about it," Mark replies. "She'll forget soon enough."

"You just said she'd never forgive you!" Lexie protests with a laugh.

"That was an exaggeration."

Lexie rolls her eyes. "Right." A moment later, a smile blooms on her face.

"What are you thinking of?" Mark asks, noticing the change in her expression. "What is it?"

"Just…" She grins at him. "What would you think—now this is for your little niece, mind you—if we staged our own little wedding here? Just for Zo?"

Mark stares at her for a moment before groaning loudly. "_God_," he complains. "You're really taking this 'favorite aunt' thing _way _too seriously."

Lexie grins. "It is not a title I carry lightly," she replies loftily. "I've got all of Derek's sisters to compete with to hold it, remember."

"I'll think about it," Mark mutters. "But I doubt it will be happening. We can just buy her a bag of flower petals instead and she can play with those."

Lexie chuckles, leaning back against the pillows. "Fine. We'll sleep on it," she murmurs tiredly. She sighs a few minutes later, opening her eyes when she's had enough of feeling him stare at her. "What is it?"

He grins, leaning forward to kiss her softly. "I'd rather it if we didn't sleep," he murmurs, sliding towards her beneath the covers.

"How," Lexie begins as he moves to hover above her, "_How _are you not dead yet?"

Mark smirks at the exasperation in her voice. "You've been trying to kill me with sex, huh, baby?"

Lexie chuckles. "Well, I wasn't _trying_, no, but I thought it would end up happening eventually, considering how many times we've done it in the last twenty-four hours."

"Just one more time, I promise."

"Then you'll sleep?" Lexie demands.

"Then I'll be dead," Mark corrects. "But, yes, I suppose that's a form of sleep to some people."

Lexie smiles, shaking her head. "You are literally the definition of insatiable. Seriously," she adds when he laughs, "if I were to look it up in the dictionary, the first entry would read 'Mark Sloan.'"

Mark grins, bending down to kiss her. "Yes, but I'm only that way with you."

Lexie smiles, drawing him closer. "I guess I am too," she whispers into the kiss.

. . .

_5.30 AM_

. . .

"I have to go to work," Lexie whispers, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"No," Mark groans, reaching out and grabbing her arm as she walks away. "Stay here," he mumbles into the pillow.

Lexie laughs softly, removing his hand from her arm. "Go to sleep," she advises softly. "It's half-past five."

"In the morning?" Mark groans, rolling over so his eyes can meet hers. They squint up at her, cloudy from sleep. "Great. You've told me the time. Now I'll never get back to sleep."

Lexie smirks. "Hey, _you're _the one who wouldn't let _me_ sleep last night. Least I could do is wake you up early on your day off."

He narrows his eyes at her. "I don't like this vindictive side of you. And," he adds a moment later, "what happened to the whole 'I'm off all break—'"

"—unless I get paged," Lexie finishes for him. She holds up the small electronic device. "Well, I got paged."

Mark sighs. "And what is it now?"

"My patient needs an emergency appy."

Mark sighs loudly. "Have I mentioned recently that the appendix is my least favorite organ?"

Lexie smiles. "It's my patient's least favorite organ, too, I bet."

"Can't Arizona do it?"

Lexie shakes her head. "She and Callie just left with Sofia, I'm the only one who can go in," she explains, pulling on her coat. "And it's just an appy, so I'll be done in an hour or so, but I wanted to look in on Lauren afterwards and see how her physical therapy's been going."

"Good, last time I checked," Mark yawns. "She's got some nice range of motion with the arm."

"Still can't quite bend completely at the elbow, though."

Mark shrugs. "She just needs to work on it. She's been doing a pretty good job, though. Especially for a kid."

Lexie smiles. "I agree." She glances down at her watch. "Okay, I have to go. Bye." She leans over the bed to kiss him quickly. He immediately reaches up, tangling a hand in her hair and pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. "I've…gotta go," she protests softly against his lips while reaching up to remove his hand. "Surgery," she reminds him with a sympathetic frown.

Mark sighs, reluctantly backing off. "Fine," he mutters.

"Can't stay in the honeymoon phase forever," she tells him sadly.

Mark smirks slightly. "We can sure as hell try, though, huh?"

Lexie grins, blowing him a kiss as she heads to the door.

. . .

"Hey," Lauren calls two hours later with a smile. "You're back."

Lexie grins, stepping into the room. "That I am." She glances around. "Where's your Mom?"

Lauren waves a hand. "Talking with that physical therapy guy." She rolls her eyes. "He's going to end up killing her one of these days if she doesn't stop pestering him."

"She just wants you to be healthy, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Lauren mutters. "I know."

"So," Lexie says, taking a seat next to her patient. "It's only two days till Christmas. You excited?"

Lauren shrugs. "It'll be nice, I guess. I wish I didn't have to spend it here, though."  
>"Me too," Lexie replies. "But until we're sure that things are going to continue to progress in the great way that they have been, you'll have to be here a bit longer."<p>

Lauren doesn't reply and silence stretches across the room as Lexie carefully takes notes of her patient's physical progress. She's debating whether or not to find the physical therapist on call when her attention is diverted by a hushed voice.

"Oh… my god," Lauren breathes.

"What's wrong?" Lexie asks, moving her chair forward quickly and scanning her patient for any signs of harm. "What happened? What hurts? Did something—"

"You—you got _married_," Lauren breathes, pointing to her surgeon's left hand.

Lexie sighs in relief, sitting back in her chair. She closes her eyes a moment later, letter her lips quirk upward in a smile. "I did," she replies after a second.

"Oh my god!" Lauren squeals, a hand flying to her mouth as the other jerks slightly by her side. "You got married!" Lauren yells. "You got married! You got married!"

"Shh," Lexie laughs, bringing a finger to her lips. "You're going to annoy the other patients."

"Who cares! This is _so _huge. Oh my _god_, I cannot believe you're _married_!"

"Really?" Lexie asks with a tilt of her head. "Because I've been married for most of the time you've known me."

Lauren shakes her head. "Different guy." She waves her hand, dismissing the topic. "Tell me about _this _guy!"

"You know who he is," Lexie smiles, getting to her feet.

Lauren squeals in delight, twisting side to side in excitement. "Ah! I knew it! You married Dr. Sloan, didn't you? Ohmy_god_, that is _so_ cute!" She suddenly perks up, her eyes widening. "Oh, is he coming? To look at my arm? Cause then I can ask him—"

Lexie shakes her head, offering her patient a sympathetic frown despite feeling extremely relieved at her husband's current schedule. "Sorry. He's got time off for the rest of the holidays."

"Damn," Lauren mutters, looking down. She quickly turns to her doctor. "But you can tell me, right? You were there too; tell me how he proposed! And the ring—wait a second, why haven't you been wearing an engagement ring all this time?"

"Well, it's a funny story, actually," Lexie replies, heading across the room to grab the printouts of her patient's vitals. "I got engaged and married in the last forty-eight hours."

Lauren's eyes widen almost comically before she grins. "So _that's _why you weren't here yesterday! Dr. Robbins said you were sick, but I knew it wasn't true. You're never sick. You're always here."

"That's true," Lexie smiles. "My life is this hospital."

"And Dr. Sloan," Lauren adds, grinning at her doctor.

Lexie laughs lightly, taking a seat beside her patient. "Yes, him too," she agrees. She stares at the papers, flipping through the information that was processed over the last couple days. "Okay," she begins. "How are you feeling today? Because it seems like you—"

"What'd he say when he proposed?"

Lexie smiles to herself, wondering what to say.

"Oh, I bet it was _so_ sweet!" Lauren coos. "Come on, Dr. Grey, you have to tell me what he said!"

"He didn't propose," Lexie replies. "I did."

"_What_?" Lauren asks, her eyes lighting up in surprise. "_You _proposed?"

Lexie nods.

"Wow." Lauren sits back, mulling over this. "I didn't even know girls _could_ propose!"

"It happens," Lexie replies, even though she had never heard of a similar situation.

"So what did _you_ say, then? Did you have a whole speech?" Lauren grins. "Did you give _him _a ring?"

"No, no," Lexie smiles. "He was worried about the ring possibility, though, when I asked him. And I didn't have a speech, I just asked. Plain and simple."

Lauren catches her doctor's eyes, giving her a small smile. "That's actually really cute, Dr. Grey."

"I thought so," Lexie smiles back.

"So, then… What did you mean when you said you got married and engaged in the last forty-eight hours?" Lauren wonders in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean? Who can put together a wedding that quick?"

"We didn't put together a wedding," Lexie replies. "I asked him to marry me and then we went to city hall the next day to make it legal. We didn't have an actual wedding, we just signed papers and swapped rings."

Lauren frowns immediately. "I'll give you a ten out of ten for the proposal… But _city hall? _That must be the least romantic thing I've ever heard_,_ Dr. Grey. Zero points. None. Zip."

"Thank you, Ms. Elder," Lexie replies crisply. "I don't remember asking you for your opinion."

"But _city hall?_" Lauren repeats in disgust, unable to let it go. "Are you _kidding_ me? What about the church and the dress and the flower girls—"

"We wanted to do it quick," Lexie replies, meeting her patient's eyes. The girl stares back at her for a moment before laughter bubbles up from her lips. "What?" Lexie asks, confused at her amusement.

"Do you have—" she snorts "—a bun in the oven, Dr. Grey? Is that was this wedding was about?" Her shoulders shake with laughter. "Did your dad march Dr. Sloan to the courtroom with a shotgun at his back?"

Lexie sighs, setting down her pen. "_No_, Lauren," she replies in exaggerated exasperation among her patient's continued giggles. "It was _not _a shotgun wedding."

"Sorry," she laughs. "I just thought—"

"And I think our society has evolved past shotgun weddings, don't you?" Lexie asks with a raised eyebrow. "It's socially acceptable to have a baby without being married."

"Well, yeah, but—" She breaks off, attempting to hold in her laughter. "Just the image of –of Dr. Sloan being forced down the aisle by a gun…" She trails off, dissolving into uncontrollable giggles. "I can just picture it, and it's _priceless_."

Lexie rolls her eyes, but she can't but admit that the idea is amusing. She stays with Lauren for fifteen minutes, checking over her arm and going over a few exercises, before excusing herself and heading home.

. . .

"Hey," Mark calls when he hears the front door open. "You're back."

"I am," Lexie replies, hanging up her coat and kicking off her shoes before walking into the apartment. The smell of cooking food draws her to the kitchen, where she finds Mark with a stack of waffles.

"Well, well, well…" She smiles, taking a sea at the island. "What do we have here?"

"Consider it a thank-you for all the sex yesterday," Mark replies, passing her a plate.

Lexie raises her eyebrows, taking it and setting it down on the counter before her as he walks around to take a seat beside her. She looks over at him. "Not a thank-you for being proposed to?" She wonders. "Or for being married?"

Mark smirks, passing her a fork. "Well, I assumed you already knew that's what all the sex was for."

"Ah," Lexie replies, cutting into her breakfast. "So _that's_ why the sex was so copious." She grins, spearing a piece of waffle with her fork. "And that makes this a thank-you for a thank-you."

Mark laughs, glancing over to her. "Sure."

"So," Lexie says after they've finished eating, "what did you do while I was gone?" She crumples her napkin, throwing it on her plate and pushing them both away. "You go back to sleep?"

"Of course not," Mark replies, turning to face her. "I was already too awake to fall back to sleep."

"Sorry."

He shrugs. "No big deal. I would've woken up sooner or later, anyway. Sleeping habits of a surgeon are hard to kick."

Lexie nods, smiling faintly.

"But I…" Mark looks over at her. "I did talk to Derek."

"Oh, yeah?" Lexie asks, interested. "He called? What'd you say?"

"Well, I didn't announce our marriage over the phone while he was visiting his mother, if that's what you're wondering," Mark smirks. Lexie smiles at the idea, almost able to picture her brother-in-law's face. "He wanted to know what we were doing on tomorrow for Christmas Eve."

"And what'd you tell him?"

"Nothing, which of course led to a dinner invite."

Lexie nods. "What time do we have to be there?"

"Six, Derek said."

"And it's just us?"

Mark nods. "Just us."

Lexie takes a breath. "Us and them. Okay." She looks over at her husband, a smile taking shape on her face. "What… What do you think about telling them?"

Mark shrugs, immediately knowing what she's referring to. "Sounds fine to me," he replies. "No reason to hide it from them. Or anyone," he adds.

Lexie exhales slowly. "What do you think they're going to do?"

"They're going to be very courteous and shower us with congratulations," Mark replies without missing a beat.

Lexie smiles at him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "You know," she notes after a moment, "most women hate it when their husbands lie to them, but I find that I rather enjoy the practice."

"Tomorrow will be _fine_," Mark assures her seriously.

"Keep at it," Lexie encourages with a smile, "and I might actually start to believe you by the time dinner rolls around."

. . .

_Author's Note: Hm, what do you think Meredith and Derek are going to say? ;) Please leave me a review with your thoughts on the chapter! I will update soon._


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33:**

. . .

_Christmas Eve_

_. . ._

"You're _engaged_?" Meredith asks, wide-eyed with alarm written all over her face. Lexie smiles despite her sister's reaction and steps inside the Grey's front hall.

"Well, technically, no," she corrects, glancing quickly to her husband before looking back at her sister.

"Oh, thank god," Meredith mutters, visibly relieved as she closes the door behind the couple. "You know, you really had me there—"

"We're married," Lexie interrupts, unable to hold back a grin.

"Oh, Jesus," Meredith sighs, lifting a hand to cover her eyes as she turns her head away from the couple.

"Excuse me?" Derek calls from the kitchen, sticking his head out. "Can you please repeat what you just said, Little Grey?"

Lexie opens her mouth to speak, but Mark's voice rumbles over hers. "She said we're married, Shep. And she isn't lying."

Derek offers a small smile to the couple before exiting the kitchen and walking towards them. He glances quickly and Mark and Lexie before turning to his wife with a smug smile. "Meredith, honey, I believe you owe me some money."

Meredith groans, stalking out of the room to find her purse. Derek walks out into the living room, standing in front of the couple as he waits for his payment. Meredith returns a few moments later, begrudgingly handing him a hundred-dollar bill.

"Hey!" Lexie protests as she watches Derek accept the bill and snap it between his fingers with a grin.

"You bet on whether or not we'd get married?" Mark asks, feeling more than slightly insulted.

"Think of it this way," he says, noticing the look on his best friend's face and clapping him on the shoulder. "I had your back."

"Right," Mark replies sarcastically.

"And, yes, we did," Derek informs the pair smugly. "And Meredith," he says, turning to his wife, "this will teach you to bet against me."

"Hmph," Meredith grunts, walking back towards the kitchen.

"You know, I'd say congratulations," Derek offers to the newlyweds, "but I think those all go to _me_."

Lexie rolls her eyes as he snaps the bill again, but smiles anyway. "Whatever, Derek."

"Plus, I don't know if you can congratulate two adulterers on making their own marriage out of the wreckage of another one."

"_Derek_!" Meredith calls, coming back into the room with outrage ringing through her voice. Her shocked face mirrors her sister's to a tee. Derek just walks away with a grin.

"Hey," Mark calls. "I congratulated you at your wedding, didn't I?"

"_Mark_!" Lexie protests, elbowing him.

Derek turns around, eyes widened in surprise.

"We're not so different, you and I," Mark tells him.

"_Touché_, man," Derek grins, walking back and hugging him. "Touché."

Mark smiles slightly as he hugs his best friend, seeing Lexie mouth '_Jerk' _over his shoulder.

"Little Grey," Derek says, turning around to face her. Lexie immediately plasters a smile on her face, acting as she weren't just insulting him—literally—behind his back. "May I congratulate you as well, and say that I hope this one lasts longer than the first?"

Lexie face sours at this. "No congratulating me if you're going to be an ass about it," she tells him. Derek smirks at her sharp tongue, turning to his best friend with a laugh.

"Well, then…"

"You know what?" Lexie asks, turning to her husband. "We should just go. If they're going to be mean about it, we should go have dinner by ourselves."

"Fine," Derek shrugs nonchalantly. "See if I care."

"All right, then," Mark replies, taking her hand and heading to the front door.

"_NO_," Meredith shouts from the kitchen. "I will _not _have you sneaking off, Lexie Grey—you are going to sit here and put up with Derek and eat dinner and _not _sneak out of the house at one in the morning!"

"Mer, it isn't—"

"No exceptions!"

Lexie stares at her before laughter bubbles up, escaping through her lips as she touches her forehead to Mark's shoulder. He glances down at her, smirking and nodding towards her sister, as if to ask: _Well, what do you want to do?_

"Okay," Lexie calls back, pretending to sound judgmental. "I'll stay if I _have to_."

"You have to," Meredith replies, her eyes following the two until they take their seats. "Ah, ah, ah!" She calls as they sit next to each other. "No sitting side-by-side. I don't want any funny business."

"Meredith!" Lexie protests, embarrassed.

"And no sitting across from each other either, while you're at it," Derek adds with a wink.

"Well, now this won't be any fun," Mark complains, pulling out a chair diagonal from Lexie's.

"Who said marriage was any fun?" Meredith calls back.

"Who said _you _were any fun?" Mark asks her.

"Wow," Lexie mutters. "It's just insults all around with you three."

"Welcome home," Derek smiles, taking a seat next to her.

Lexie stares at him a moment, taking in his joking words seriously. "Thank you," she replies softly. Derek glances over, surprised by her genuine tone of voice.

"No problem," he replies after a moment trying to dispel the tension.

"No, Derek, really," Lexie continues, glancing to her sister as she sits down. "You guys didn't have to do this for us—you didn't even have to be congratulatory or civil about it—but the fact that you're making an effort… It means a lot. It really does."

"It's the least I could do," Meredith replies, offering her sister a small smile. The room is covered in a comfortable silence for a moment before Mark interrupts it loudly.

"Ow!" He calls, brushing a hand over his face as he glares at his best friend. "What are you doing?"

"Don't stare at her with that moon face," Derek calls across the table as he flings another green pea in his friend's direction, "it's annoying. And you're embarrassing yourself."

Lexie looks between them, completely confused. "What are you doing, throwing food at him? Are you five?"

"No, I happen to be forty-eight, actually," Derek replies turning to her as he flicks a perfectly aimed pea in Mark's direction without even looking. "Why do you ask?"

"Derek, stop throwing things," Meredith tells him. "You're setting a bad example."

"For who?" Derek asks, continuing to pelt the plastic surgeon across from him with peas. "Zola's with my mom. And he was the one who was looking at your sister like he was in the seventh grade and she was the first girl he'd ever gotten the hots for. Puppy-dog eyes and everything. Besides, Lex," he continues, turning to his sister-in-law, "you're the one who told me I didn't need to be civil."

"I didn't mean—_Mark_!" Lexie shouts, her hands flying to her mouth as Derek is splattered full-on in the face with mashed potatoes.

"Oh…my god," Meredith manages, attempting not to laugh at the sight of her husband's face and hair buried beneath a layer of yellow-white potato mush.

"What was that for?" Lexie asks, her eyes flying wildly to her own husband. "Why did you throw food at him?"

"He started it," Mark shrugs, calmly setting the spoon he'd used to catapult potatoes back in its bowl.

"You ruined my dinner!" Meredith objects, finally finding her voice and looking worriedly over the potato-splattered table.

"You mean _my _dinner," Derek corrects, reaching forward to grab the mashed potato bowl.

"Don't—!" Meredith shouts, jumping away from the table. Mark tries to get out of his chair, but he can't move quick enough, and, in seconds, he's slathered with potatoes form head to waist as Derek chucks the entire contents of the bowl directly at him.

"_Derek!_" Lexie and Meredith shout at the same time.

"Please stop," Meredith calls a moment later as they all freeze in anticipation of who will make the next move. "Please don't. I really, _really _don't want to—"

"Too late," Derek sing-songs, licking the cranberry sauce off of a spoon he'd just used to douse her with.

"Derek Shepherd, I am going to _kill _you," Meredith vows, digging a spoon into a nearby tray of yams. Lexie smiles, preoccupied by the escalation of their little feud until she'd blindsided with a faceful of the same cranberry sauce Derek had flung at his own wife.

She turns very slowly, as if made of stone, to face the man diagonal from her. Mark Sloan smiles widely, the mashed potatoes having been removed from most of his face, and wiggles his fingers at her in a seemingly friendly wave.

Lexie wastes no time in making sure he gets a faceful of string beans, grinning while she throws them.

…

"Well, _that _was interesting," Lexie states an hour later, wiping a bit of cranberry sauce off her forehead after she and Meredith have attempted to clean off the majority of food from each other's clothes. Since it was their fault for starting the whole thing, Meredith had made Mark and Derek clean up the chaotic mess that used to be their dining room.

Meredith grins. "Better than sneaking out?" She asks, smudging a bit of yams off her younger sister's shoulder.

Lexie smiles at her. "Definitely."

"So…" Meredith begins, drawing out the word with a glance at her sister as she leans against the sink. "Why was I not invited to the wedding?"

Lexie smiles, moving to mimic her sister's stance. "There was no reason to invite anyone," she explains. "We just went down to the courthouse, signed a few papers."

"Who was the witness?"

Lexie grimaces slightly, glancing down to the floor before meeting her sister's eyes. "It was my… my divorce lawyer, actually. Her name's Whitney."

Meredith raises her eyebrows at the brunette. "Real nice, Lex," she replies sarcastically.

"It was short notice, okay, and she said she was in town," Lexie replies defensively. "It was—"

"It was a real slap in the face is what it was," Meredith notes.

Lexie sighs in not-too-serious exasperation. "Who else were we going to ask?" She shrugs. "No one was in town for the holiday—"

"You could have still asked me," Meredith puts in. "Or at least Derek."

"You two were out of town."

"So?" Meredith replies. "I would have flown back."

"You… Wait…" Lexie trails off, a smile spreading over her face. "Oh, Mer… Really?"

"You kidding me?" Meredith replies gruffly. "Of course. My baby sister only gets married once…" She glances at Lexie sidelong. "Or twice."

"Just twice," Lexie assures her. She meets her sister's eyes after a second. "Though it seemed like you didn't expect me to get married at all… Seeing as you bet against Derek."

Meredith smiles. "No, actually, I was all for it."

Lexie looks over, intrigued. "What?"

Meredith shrugs. "The way I see it, if leaving Jackson had been an impulsive act, you would already be back in Portland. And if you felt anything less for Mark than complete love, you wouldn't be sticking around, let alone marrying him," she adds. "Really, I just thought…" She smiles. "I was expecting it to happen a hell of a lot sooner. And that's why I lost the bet."

"What?" Lexie laughs, surprised.

"Yeah," Meredith replies. "I knew it was going to happen, of course, but I figured Mark would give you a couple months to get settled before popping the question." She smiles, glancing to her sister. "I guess he thought a few months wouldn't be enough and he took his time."

"Mer," Lexie smiles. "Mark… He didn't ask me to marry him."

"Oh, well, you agreed on it, whatever," Meredith replies dismissively. "Same thing, in the end. You're still married."

"No, you don't get it…" Lexie grins. "I asked him."

Meredith's eyes widen. "You what?"

"I asked him to marry me."

"No, you didn't," Meredith grins.

Lexie nods happily. "I—I was actually going to talk to him about trying for a baby, but…" Lexie shrugs helplessly. "Something else came out first."

"Be honest," Meredith tells her sister. "Are you pregnant right now? Is that why you did it so quick?"

"_God_," Lexie groans, shaking her head. "No, it was _not_ a shotgun wedding! Whydoes _everyone_ have to come to that conclusion?"

Meredith smirks. "Well, because he's Mark and you're Lexie." She looks her sister in the eye. "That's a 'no,' I take it, then, on the baby?"

Lexie catches her sister's eye with a smile. "I hope it'll be a 'yes,' soon," she replies. "But as for now… No."

"Aw," Meredith says. "You guys are trying already?"

Lexie grins. "That's all we've been doing for the past two days, actually. I mean, honestly, you'd think with the amount of sex we've been—"

"Enough," Meredith cuts in sharply with a flick of her hand. "That's enough. I don't need to know anymore."

"Meredith," Lexie laughs.

"I know you're trying. That's good. I don't need all the gory details."

"'Gory?'" Lexie questions with raised eyebrows.

"Fine, _naked_ details," Meredith corrects in a huff. "Whatever. I don't need to know. I have my own husband and our own naked details to deal with. Don't give me yours, too."

Lexie grins. "You'd be jealous of my naked details, anyway. They're better than yours."

"_No_, I would not and _no_, they are not. I am perfectly satisfied with Derek's naked details, and I don't need or want Mark's too."

Lexie laughs. "Aw," she taunts. "They're only _satisfactory_, Mer?"

Meredith rolls her eyes, walking back out into the dining room. "Mark," she calls, "your wife is being a child!"

Lexie follows after her sister, grinning when she hears her husband let out an exasperated groan.

"_Again_?" He complains.

Derek laughs, tossing the rag he'd been using to wipe off a chair onto the table.

"Okay, you two," Meredith announces, placing herself between Mark and Lexie and eyeing the both of them in succession. "Time to explain. Why weren't Derek and I invited to the wedding?"

"Mer," Lexie mutters. "You guys were out of town. Come on, you know that."

Mark grins when Meredith turns to him for an alternate explanation. "And we didn't really want you two there, anyway."

"But you saw fit to invite her divorce lawyer," Meredith mocks.

"What?" Derek asks with a laugh, looking between the three. When he realizes his wife wasn't joking, he turns to his sister-in-law. "Your _divorce lawyer _was your witness?" He asks in disbelief.

Lexie rolls her eyes with a sigh. "Yes, Derek, my divorce lawyer witnessed my wedding. She was all we had. Can we please move past it?"

Derek shakes his head with a half-smile. "That's cold, Little Grey. Cold."

"It's not like I asked her to do it out of spite!" Lexie replies in exasperation. "You and Meredith were at your mother's, Callie and Arizona were out of town…"

Derek grins. "And, what? You two don't have any other friends?"

Lexie cracks a smile, glancing to Mark. "Apparently not."

"Well," Derek begins seriously, stepping towards his sister-in-law, "I said it once and I'll say it again: Congratulations, Little Grey."

Lexie smiles in reply, finally accepting his good wishes and returning his hug. "Thanks, Derek."

. . .

"I lied," Lexie confides in her husband quietly as they walk down the Grey's front porch a half-hour later.

"What?" Mark asks, taking her hand when they reach the grass.

"I lied to Meredith."

Mark frowns at her in confusion. "You did? About what?"

"She asked me if I'd rather be here or with you."

"And?"

"And I said I'd rather be here." She squeezes his hand, leaning into his body. "Which is a lie."

Mark smiles, kissing the top of her head. "Love you too, Lex." He pulls back a moment later, face twisted.

"What?" Lexie asks, confused at his expression. "What'd I do?"

"You have cranberry sauce in your hair," Mark replies, spitting into the grass.

Lexie smirks. "Not your favorite, I take it?"

"No, not at all."

"Well you shouldn't have thrown it at me if you didn't like it, you big idiot," Lexie grins, puling him to a stop and releasing his hand as she holds his face still for a kiss. He grins, not being able to help himself, and kisses her back, a hand on her waist drawing her closer.

"Wanna go home?" Mark asks her a moment later after they break apart. "Get out of these gross clothes and then…" He raises his eyebrows suggestively before finishing flatly, "burn them?"

"Sure," Lexie laughs, heading for the car once again. "And can we get some food, too? That might've been fun, but now I'm actually _starving_."

Mark laughs, unlocks the doors, and swears he'll stop at the first grocery store they see.

…

"They'll be okay, won't they?" Meredith calls softly as she hears the porch steps creak behind her. Derek steps forward, resting his head on his wife's shoulder and wrapping his arms around her stomach. They watch in silence as the pair in question get into their car, sharing a brief kiss before backing out of the Grey's yard and driving away.

"Yes," Derek replies with confidence and a genuine smile, holding her close. He turns to meet his wife's eyes, waiting for a contradiction. "I think they'll be just fine."

"Me too," Meredith replies after a couple seconds, not at all surprised to find that her words come out honest.

. . .

_Author's Note: I know, this one was rather short. But I wanted to keep the little ending with Meredith and Derek. :) Please leave me a review with your thoughts on the chapter._


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34:**

_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter :)_

. . .

"This probably means I'm _actually_ going to have to start spending holidays with my father," Lexie notes as they pull away from Meredith's house. "Christmas Brunch," she sighs under her breath.

Mark looks over at her, confused. "What?" He asks before looking back to the road. "Haven't you been visiting him?"

Lexie shakes her head. "Whenever I came to see you, I'd always say I was at my dad's."

"Oh," Mark replies quietly. He waits a beat. "So should we… tell him tomorrow?"

Lexie shrugs. "I don't know. I never told him I left Jackson."

"_What_?" Mark asks, his eyes flying to hers momentarily. His voice is so sharp she's half sure he might run the car off the road in his preoccupation. "You didn't tell your own family you got _divorced_?"

"Asks the man who hasn't spoken to _his_ family in what I suspect is thirty years," Lexie shoots back. "Tell me, do they know they're grandparents? _Great-_grandparents, even?"

"My family and I do not have a good relationship," Mark replies flatly, closing the subject. His voice softens a second later. "But you have one of the best with yours I've seen." He nudges her with a free hand as they pull into the apartment building's parking lot. "Why don't you want tell them?" He asks before turning off the ignition.

Lexie sighs quietly, unbuckling her seatbelt before turning to face him. "I don't want them to hate me," she whispers, her eyes downcast.

"What?" Mark asks, his forehead creasing in confusion. "Why would they hate you, Lex? You're happy."

"Mark," Lexie mutters, looking over to him. "Come on. You know exactly how this is going to look."

"Thatcher likes me," he deflects.

"He _liked _you," Lexie corrects. "And you only met him once. Eleven years ago."

"I made a good impression," Mark assures her. "And so what are we going to do then, if we don't tell them? You're just going to lie to your family for the remainder of your life?"

"Mark—"

"And I can be 'that guy,'" he air-quotes, muttering distastefully, "that they always 'see Lexie with.'" He looks over to his wife. "Is that what you want?" He demands.

Lexie sighs heavily. "Well, it's obviously not what _you_ want."

"No," Mark replies coolly. "It's not."

"Well…" Lexie pauses, thinking. "Okay, I'll make you a deal. We'll go to brunch tomorrow—"

"Good."

"But there will be no big announcement."

Mark narrows his eyes at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" He questions suspiciously, thinking of what loophole she's taking advantage of.

"It means that I don't want to stand up in front of everyone and explain all that's happened," Lexie replies. "I will talk with my father and sister individually."

Mark sighs, but begrudgingly accepts. "And you want to talk to them alone, I'm guessing?"

Lexie nods. "I… I don't think I could stand it if one of them turned on you," she whispers softly.

"They aren't animals," Mark replies with a laugh as he steps out of the car. "No one's going to 'turn' on me."

"They could hate you," Lexie replies seriously, exiting as well and catching his eye, "and that would be just as bad, trust me."

. . .

_Christmas Day_

_. . ._

"Okay," Lexie begins, turning to her husband as they stand on the front steps of her childhood home. "Test number two. Remember: tread carefully."

Mark sighs impatiently. "Lex, I know. Let's just get inside, okay? And we'll see how it goes."

She stares at him for a quiet moment before closing her eyes, reaching out, and turning the doorknob. They step inside without another word, and Lexie makes a beeline for her father, wanting to get what she's sure will be the worst part, over with first.

"Dad," Lexie says quietly, slowing to a stop just a few feet from him.

Thatcher turns around, a smile lighting up his face when he sees his daughter. "Lexie," he calls, pulling her immediately into a bear hug. "How've you been, sweetheart?"

Lexie smiles involuntarily at his genial tone, replying, "Good. I've been really good."

"I couldn't quite believe it when you called yesterday to say you were coming," he replies as they break apart. "Christmas, what a nice time to finally see you."

Lexie smiles politely, trying to shift the focus as she determines the best way to broach the subject. "How about you?" She asks, looking him up at down. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm great." He shifts from foot to foot as two little boys run around his legs, shouting and chasing each other into the adjoining room. "Well, as great as one can be with all of Molly's kids under one roof."

Lexie smiles with a quiet chuckle, watching her nephews run off. "Oh, they aren't so bad."

Thatcher grins. "No, they aren't at all." He takes a half step towards his daughter, lowering his voice to a more serious decibel. "So," he begins quietly, staring at a fixed point over her shoulder, "would you like to explain whom you've brought along with you?"

Lexie turns her head, following her father's gaze just in time to see her husband disappear into the bathroom. _Run while you still can, _she thinks bitterly, wishing he hadn't insisted on coming. "Dad, there's…" She takes a breath, summoning her courage. "Some things have happened since I last saw you."

"I would think so, it's been half a decade, has it not?"

Lexie nods her head in silence. "I know. I'm sorry I haven't been around. But I—"

"—but you called," Thatcher interrupts with a small smile. "So at least I knew you were alive down in Portland."

"I am alive," Lexie replies with a brief smile. "But, um, that's one of the things that happened." He stares at her expectantly, waiting for elaboration. "I moved back to Seattle."

"_I_?" Thatcher questions, zeroing on the singular word.

Lexie nods. "Yes, just me. And I… About a… a year ago now, I…got divorced."

Thatcher tilts his head, sighing quietly. After a long moment, he only murmurs softly: "You did, didn't you?"

Lexie stares at him in silence, completely taken aback. She analyzes his words as the silence stretches on between them, and finally she comes to the conclusion that he must already know. Somehow, he found out. Maybe he called Jackson looking for her, and he'd had to break the news. Lexie half-shudders at the thought, not wanting to think about how uncomfortable that conversation would have been. Or, she reasons, maybe he'd tried to visit her at work one day and overheard the nurses' gossip. That was an uncomfortable thought as well, but nowhere near as awful as the first. Either way, Lexie decides, it doesn't matter that he found out—she can figure that out later. All that matters is that he knows.

But there's still one detail he has to be in the dark about. One thing that she still has to tell him.

"I—I did," Lexie replies, finally having found her voice and surfacing from her thoughts. "And I—I know this might seem fast, but a few days ago I—"

"Alexandra Grey!"

Lexie's head whips around at the sound of her sister's voice. Before she can say a word, her sister's moved across the room and enveloped her in a tight hug. "Where the hell have you _been_?" Molly mutters in her sister's ear.

Lexie pulls back with a nervous smile, but she turns back to her father without meeting her sister's eyes—she wants to get the first confrontation over with before she starts on a second—but when she turns around, her Dad has disappeared. She looks around, but before she can find him, there's an insistent hand on her arm, pulling her away towards the kitchen. Lexie follows along after her sister without complaint, realizing that it doesn't matter who she tells first. She just needs to get it over with once and for all.

"So…" Molly begins once they're alone in the kitchen.

"So," Lexie replies, trying to formulate how she's going to break the ice. "How've you—"

"You have a new husband."

Lexie's eyes snap up. _How did she find out so fast? _"Wha—What? How did you—"

"Your hand, Lexie," Molly replies, nodding towards the ring on Lexie's finger.

"Oh," she mutters, looking down at the gold band on her left hand. _Well, _**shit**_._ "I should have…"

"What?" Molly chuckles. "Were you going to take it off and pretend like you weren't married to your own family?"

"I—I got divorced, Mol," Lexie replies quietly, her eyes flicking up to meet her sister's calm gaze. She knows without a doubt that her sister has somehow heard everything. "You—you know as well as I do what that means."

"Yes," Molly replies, crossing her arms. Lexie tries not to twist the neutral gesture into a menacing action. "And you also got married again within a year of divorcing Jackson."

Lexie looks down, feeling guilty beneath her sister's gaze. "I know," she replies. "I—"

"You don't do things like that," Molly replies. Lexie looks up, bracing herself for what's coming. "You don't make rash decisions and you don't rush important events…" Molly crosses the wood floor to stand a few feet from her older sister. "Not unless it's something you really want."

"Oh, Molly, I…"

"So," she smiles, reaching out for her sister's hand. "I believe congratulations are in order."

Lexie bites her lip, taking a breath. "Really?" She asks, choked up. "Mol, are you…" She sniffs. "Really? Are you serious?"

"Oh, Lexie," Molly says with a sad smile. She steps towards her sister, pulling the older woman close for a hug. "Of course, honey."

Although Lexie takes a deep, calming breath as she hugs her sister tight, she still feels her eyes prick with relief. "Thank you so much," Lexie whispers into her sister's shoulder. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"Hey, Lex," a voice calls, pushing open the kitchen door. "I—" Mark Sloan breaks off, staring at the hugging sisters before turning back to the exit. "Sorry, I can, uh, go."

"No, no, no," Molly calls before Lexie can open her mouth. She reaches out a hand to grab his arm. "You come here too."

"You know," Mark replies, trying to resist the surprisingly strong pull of her arm, "I really don't think—"

"Too bad," Molly replies, forcing him into their awkward group hug.

Mark glances down at the two women stand a few inches shorter than him. "Why… exactly…is this happening?"

Molly chuckles, pulling back form the close embrace after a second. "There. It's over."

"Phew," Mark replies, taking a measured step back and rolling his shoulders. "I think I strained something." He glances to his wife. "Why did that just happen?"

"Well," Lexie begins, sparing a wide smile for her sister before turning to her husband and answering his question. "You and I, being the brilliant masterminds of deception that we are…" She holds up her left hand. "We forgot to take them off."

Mark nods, taking this is. "Right," he replies. "That would explain why your Dad cornered me when I came out of the bathroom, threatening that he knew how to make my death look like an accident if I ever hurt you."

Lexie's eyes widen, recalling her father's earlier disappearance and knowing that this is far from a joke. "He did _what_?"

Mark waves a hand. "It's not a big deal. He's just being protective, doing his Dad duty."

"You're my husband and my father just threatened to _kill_ you," Lexie protests. "If that isn't a big deal, then what is?"

"Maybe missing the birth of your nephew," Molly chimes in before Mark can open his mouth.

The color drains from Lexie's face before she snaps her head around to look at her sister. "No…" She whispers, all other earlier troubles forgotten. Her face pinches in humiliation and sorrow a second later. Her hand flies to her mouth. "Oh my god, Molly, I am _so sorry_—"

"I'll, uh, give you two a moment," Mark mutters, stepping back and heading out of the kitchen as fast as he can.

"Molly," Lexie whispers as he's leaving. "I—I don't even know what to say. There's no excuse. I—I just—"

"You forgot," Molly notes dryly.

"I—I was so caught up in—"

"Him?" Molly asks, nodding towards the door Mark just disappeared through.

Lexie sighs sadly, closing her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? Call me or send me a picture or—or anything?"

Molly looks away, rubbing her upper arms as she takes a few steps closer to her sister. "Meredith called a couple months ago to tell me about you and Jackson," she replies softly. "And with—with everything you were going through—all the legalities and procedures—I figured I didn't really have the right to intrude."

"You're my sister, Mol," Lexie replies softly. "You had _every _right to intrude." She pauses, biting her lip. "Why… Why didn't you? Why didn't you ask me what was happening, or… tell me to stay with him?" She looks down, staring at her feet. "You always…loved Jackson."

Molly releases a slow sigh. "Yeah, I did," she replies quietly. "He—was a good guy." Lexie looks up, waiting for more answers. Her sister wastes no time in replying. "By the time I knew what happened, it was already over. But I… I wanted to give you space. I told Dad, and I expected you'd have enough on your plate with him—"

"He didn't say a word to me, Moll."

"Well, then…" Molly gives her sister a sad half-smile. "You're the oldest, Lex. I guess he figured—just like I did—that you knew what you were doing." She takes a breath. "It was your marriage, your divorce… This was your thing, and I didn't really have any reason to butt in. Especially not when I hadn't been a part of you and Jackson since the day you got married." She frowns. "You just kind of…disappeared." The youngest Grey's forehead creases in confusion. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen you in person in years." She lets out a sad laugh. "Where've ya been all this time, Lex?"

Lexie stares at her sister for a long minute. When Molly's just about to break the silence and apologize for whatever line she crossed, Lexie whispers quietly, "If I tell you the truth, will you at least…_try_ to understand?"

Molly stares at her older sister, feeling a chill go through her body at the brunette's grave tone. Nonetheless, she nods, silently giving her approval.

"You want to know where I was?" Lexie prompts quietly. "You want to know why I didn't visit on holidays or why I haven't been to Christmas Brunch in over six years?"

Molly swallows nervously, not knowing what to expect. She nods anyway.

Lexie closes her eyes while she speaks. "I've… been with… him," she admits softly, nodding towards the door.

"Him?" Molly asks, unable to help herself from looking over the shoulder, in case the man in question had for some reason reentered the room. "_Him_—?"

"Mark," Lexie whispers. "For—" She breaks off, attempting to swallow. "For years, I was with him."

It's a long moment before Molly finds her voice again. "When you say _with him, _you mean—"

"I mean exactly what you think I mean," Lexie interrupts in a whisper. She painstakingly meets her sister's disbelieving eyes. "We were sleeping together."

Molly accepts this without comment, but Lexie watches as the woman struggles to take a breath. She—like everyone else—no doubt never expected this. "When you say 'years,'" she begins, "how…long is that, exactly?"

"Eight," Lexie answers, not wanting to tell her sister anything but the truth. "Six while we were married and two…while we were just dating."

"You kept it up for that long?" Molly whispers in disbelief. "Why—How—?"

"I was in love with him," Lexie explains quietly. "I still am," she informs her sister, in case doubt lingered. "I just…" She shakes her head with a sad smile. "I never had the sense you did when you were young. I got the book smarts, but you… You knew how to handle _life_, Molly. You were barely past drinking age, and you already had your whole life planned out. Marrying Eric, having children… You knew exactly what to do."

Molly laughs quietly. "Says the girl who graduated from Harvard Medical School with full honors and became a part of one of the country's most prestigious internships before she was even twenty-five," she shoots back. Lexie can't help but smile, grateful that her sister seems unaffected by the truth—for now, at least. "As for me," Molly continues a moment later. "With me and Eric, with the kids…" She shrugs. "Sometimes you just feel it. Sometimes it's the right time. When you know, you know, right?"

Lexie nods. "Exactly. And I—I _did _know. I knew he—Mark—was the one, I knew that I wanted a life with him, but things just got _so complicated_… So _difficult_…" She looks away, closing her eyes. "And I just had to walk away. I loved him, but I—I didn't see the point of trying to really work things out if we just always ended up ruining every chance we gave ourselves."

"So you settled for second best." Molly nods slowly, grasping onto the logic of this hidden part of her sister's life. "And Jackson was…what? Stability? Normalcy?"

Lexie chews the inside of her lip. "Yeah. For a while, he was."

"But?" Molly prompts.

Lexie sighs slowly. "But I… I just couldn't live without Mark. I had to have him in my life."

She pauses, waiting for her sister's sharp reply, her reprimand, or her infuriated yell. But nothing comes. The youngest Grey sister simply walks away, pacing quietly across the length of the kitchen. After a couple minutes, she comes to a stop and faces her older sister.

"Lexie," she begins seriously. "Just tell me one thing, okay?" The brunette nods. Molly's gaze doesn't waver. "Just answer me this: Does he make you happy?"

Lexie nods, finding her sister's eyes. "Yes," she whispers. "Yes, you have no idea. Trust me, you have no idea how happy he makes me."

"Okay." Molly nods. "Then we're okay."

Lexie stares at her sister in disbelief. "That's it? But what about—"

"You said you loved him," Molly interrupts. "And that's enough for me. I understood what you meant when you said you couldn't live without him. And you said he makes you happy?" Molly adds, waiting for clarification.

Lexie nods solemnly. "Yes. He does."

"I don't just mean average happiness," Molly warns. "I don't mean just settling for what's left after your divorce." The younger Grey pauses, trying to find the right words. "I mean, really, _truly _happy, Lex. Does he do that for you? Is he that for you?"

Lexie holds her sister's gaze. "Molly," she whispers seriously. "I am happier right now than I've been in over a decade. Trust me when I say that that's his doing, and no one else's. Just him."

Molly nods slowly. "Okay," she whispers again. "I'll hold you to that."

Lexie's exhale is a breath of relief.

"But if he hurts you," Molly warns, "believe me when I say that Dad won't be the only one out for his blood."

Lexie cracks a smile. "It's nice to know I have such a loving family," she jokes.

"We just want you to be happy, Lex," Molly replies seriously.

"I know," Lexie nods. "I'm grateful for that," she replies. "Everything that I told you…" She trails off, staring at her sister. "I just wanted you to know the truth, okay? I didn't want to lie to my family anymore. I wanted you all to know I was happy now, but to do that—"

"—we had to understand why you were unhappy before," Molly finishes for her. Lexie nods, thankful beyond words that her sister understands. Molly grins a second, eyeing her sister with a twinkle in her eye. "Speaking of the family… You wanna see its newest member?"

"I can see him?" Lexie asks, her face lighting up at the mention of her newest relative. "My nephew? He's here?"

Molly smiles, leading the way out of the kitchen and almost getting ran into my her two young sons as they chase each other across the room. "Just look around, they're everywhere," she replies with a laugh before heading across the room to retrieve her son from her husband. Lexie smiles when her own husband appears at her side and accompanies her to see the baby.

"How'd it go?" He whispers in her ear.

Lexie glances over to him, reaching out to squeeze his hand quickly as she smiles, replying "Perfectly fine," before they come to a stop before the mother and child.

"His name is Thomas," Molly tells her sister and new brother-in-law, holding him out so they can see. "He's a little over four months now."

"Oh, Moll," Lexie whispers, taking in the small child in her sister's arm, "he's _so_ cute."

"Here," Molly says, passing the infant to her sister. "Take him."

Lexie accepts her nephew with an eager smile, cradling her close against her body. She stares into the baby's bright and curious eyes, feeling her heart melt at the sight of the tiny child. She looks over, expecting to see Mark talking to Molly's husband Eric or seeing him play with his other nephews… But he, just like she, is focused on the lively child now lying comfortably in Lexie's arms.

"He really is something," Mark murmurs quietly as he studies the infant with his sharp, blue eyes. Without a word, Lexie reaches out to wrap an arm around her husband's waist as she holds the baby closer. They stare down at the child for a few minutes more before Lexie realizes that she should probably return him to his mother. She does so, dropping her hand from her husband's waist and squeezing his hand quickly before letting go. She gives him a quick smile before he walks a few feet away to make conversation with Eric.

Molly sidles up to her sister just a few moments after Mark's walked away. She nudges the brunette. "So what was that about?" She whispers in her ear. "Thomas isn't _that _cute," she jokes, referencing their obvious preoccupation with her new son.

Lexie chuckles softly, glancing over to her husband briefly before returning her gaze to her sister. She lowers her voice, as if sharing a secret. "We're… Mark and I, we're trying for a baby."

A smile spreads over Molly's face immediately, and Lexie finds herself grinning back, knowing her younger sister would be the last person to reprimand her about rushing to have a baby. "How long?" She asks, curious. "How long have you been trying?"

"About two days," Lexie admits.

Molly gives her an encouraging smile, being able to tell that her sister seems restless. "I don't think it'll take too long," she assures the brunette. Lexie watches as her sister looks over her shoulder. "I mean, I'm looking at him fully clothed," she mutters in her sister's ear, "but I can't even _imagine _how great he looks naked." Molly grins. "I'll give you one month, two tops, till you're knocked up." Lexie stares at her sister with wide eyes, not even knowing where to begin. Molly just smiles with a winsome shake of her head. "If I didn't have four kids and a husband…"

"_Molly_!" Lexie half-shouts, finally finding her voice and then shoving her sister's shoulder with a playful hand.

Molly just laughs. "What?" She grins. "I'm just telling you you won't have to wait long."

Lexie shakes her head, but there's a smile on her face. "You always were the ridiculous sister."

"Hey," Molly replies. "I'm the one with four kids. I know how these things work."

Lexie grins. "Okay, fine," she relents. "I trust you."

. . .

_10.30 PM_

. . .

"I told Meredith and Molly that we're trying for a baby," Lexie whispers later that night, as they longue in the living room together. The fire crackles quietly across the room as they lie beneath a couple of warm blankets on the sofa.

"What did they say?" Mark asks quietly. Lexie tilts her head to meet his eyes, but his are closed. If she hadn't just heard him speak, she would have thought the blank, peaceful expression on his face was a result of sleep.

"They were happy for me," she replies. "For us."

She watches as Mark's lips twitch up into a smile for a half-second. "And are Meredith and Derek orchestrating another bet centered around even more important moments in our personal life? Is it the time of birth or the sex of the baby this time?"

Lexie grins, kissing his rough jaw. "I didn't ask, but I hope they're aren't betting. Once was enough, and I don't want to give them any ideas." She pauses, and for a few minutes, all that can be heard in the spacious apartment are the sounds of wood turning slowly into ash and a pair of people breathing. "Do you think we'll know?" Lexie asks quietly.

"Hm?" Mark murmurs, arranging his head more comfortably on a pillow. "Know what?"

"When I'm pregnant," Lexie whispers softly. "Do you think we'll just… know?"

Mark shrugs tiredly. "We'll know when we know. That's what pregnancy tests are for."

"I want it to happen now," Lexie tells him, her voice hushed like she's sharing a secret and rushed in eager anticipation.

She watches her husband's eyes finally flicker open and find hers. "I do too," he smiles. "But… It'll happen when it happens, okay?" He assures her. His arm wraps around her back, pulling her closer. "For now, let's just keep trying and hope for the best, hm?"

Lexie snuggles against his chest, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Sounds like a plan," she whispers, letting her eyes fall closed as well.

"Don't you want to go to bed?" He whispers quietly, watching her start to drift off.

"No," Lexie murmurs, shaking her head slowly. "I like it here. Can't we stay?"

"Sure we can stay," Mark replies easily, not having wanted to move, either. He moves a hand to stroke her hair softly, smiling at the way it's dark shade is dimly illuminated by the reflections of the colored lights hanging around the room. "Merry Christmas," he whispers.

Lexie tilts her head so she can look up into his eyes. "Merry Christmas to you, too," she murmurs, her eyes bright with happiness. Mark smiles, bending forward to kiss her gently. He holds her gaze for the slow moment after their lips part, his soft blue eyes trained on hers.

"I love it being us two," he tells her quietly, "but I want… I _hope_… Maybe there'll be three of us next Christmas?"

Lexie's lips part in a wide, joyous smile. "Me too," she whispers, unable to stop herself from reaching for him again and pressing their lips together. "Me too," she repeats softly as they settle back against each other, slowly drifting off to sleep in each other's arms.

. . .

_January:_

_. . ._

"Okay," Lexie says, sitting beside her husband as she holds the upside-down pregnancy test between them. "Three… Two… One," she finishes, flipping it over. She frowns at the test, tipping it towards her to get a better view of the negative reading. "This thing is lying to us, isn't it?"

"No," Mark replies quietly, "they're… They're pretty accurate," he finishes, subdued.

"But it has to be lying," Lexie argues. "It's been over a month that we've been trying. And we've been trying _a lot_."

Lexie looks over to her husband when she hears him sigh softly beside her. His voice is hushed when he speaks, and he stares at the floor before speaking. "Are you…" He lifts his eyes slowly to meet hers. "Are you going to be mad if I say I'm… relieved?"

"Relived?" Lexie repeats, her voice coming out sharper than she'd intended. "What do you mean, _relieved_? You've told me a million times how much you want to have a—"

"I know," he whispers. Mark licks his lips, nervous under her narrowed gaze. "And I—I do," he assures her. "I do want a baby, I want a baby with you, but it's just… Lexie, are you… Are you sure we can do this?"

Her reply is automatic and dismissive of his worries: "What, be a family? Of course." She pauses a second later, realizing what he's getting at. "We're together now, Mark," she reminds him seriously, looking him in the eye and placing her hand on his knee. "You're my husband, I'm your wife, and we are _nothing_ less than that. We are allowed to have family together if we want one."

"I… I know."

"Then…" Lexie smiles softly, squeezing his knee briefly. "Stop worrying, okay?"

"I…" Mark looks down, swallowing nervously and folding his hands together carefully before glancing up to meet her eyes. "I can't," he murmurs in reply.

A small smirk spreads across Lexie's face as she stares at him. "Then let's take your mind off of things," she offers as she leans towards him, "and try again."

"The things you will do to get out of a conversation," Mark mutters against her lips as she moves her body closer to his, "and into my pants."

"Please," Lexie laughs, grinning at him as she sees the worry leave his face and usual happiness resume its stead. "As if you're one to complain."

She feels him smile against her lips, and a moment later his hand moves to cup the back of her head as she maneuvers her body above his.

. . .

_March:_

. . .

"Negative!" Lexie cries, throwing the pregnancy test in the direction of the wastebasket in the corner. It bounces off the rim, falling to the floor a few feet away. She glares at the offending object but doesn't stoop down to pick it up. "Negative," she groans aloud in frustration. "Negative, negative, negative!"

"Lexie—"

"That's the only reading it'll ever show us, negative! I've taken these damn tests a thousand times and that's all they ever say!"

"We just need to keep trying," Mark tells her, trying to console her. "Eventually—"

"We have been trying!" She shouts. "We try all the time! We—" She breaks off, and for a few seconds, Mark is grateful for the silent reprieve from all the yelling. But when he sees her turn away, he knows this isn't a good sort of silence.

Mark rises from the bed, getting slowly to his feet and walking over to stand beside his wife. "It'll be okay," he murmurs as he walks up to take his spot next to her. "We'll get it right, one of these times, I know it. We just—"

"Mark," Lexie cuts in. Her voice is quiet, and he notices—cracks halfway through the lonely syllable. He turns instinctively to look at her, but her closed eyes do not meet his. "What… What if it's too late for us?" She takes a shaky breath, and when she opens her eyes, Mark can see there are tears stuck to her eyelashes. Her heartbroken words cut through him, and he feel his chest tighten almost instinctively at her pain and sorrow. "What if I spent too much time apart from you and—and this is what I get for it? This is how I'm being punished?"

"Lexie," Mark sighs. "No one's punishing you. We've just had a few unlucky months, that's all."

"But it—it shouldn't be this hard," she whispers in despair, averting her eyes from his again as she stares down at the wood flooring of their apartment. "There's—there's nothing wrong with either of us, right? We're both—fine. We're both healthy. We've both made babies, we both know it's possible for each of us, it's just we…" She swallows roughly, not even wanting to speak her thoughts aloud. "We can't…can't…"

"We can't do it together," Mark finishes for her quietly, reading her mind. Her eyes rise guiltily to meet his, and from the hard way she presses her lips together, he knows she's struggling not to cry. "That's what you were going to say, isn't it?" He prompts softly. "We can't make a baby _together_? We can't be a family _together_? That's what you think?"

"It's not what I _think_," Lexie corrects sadly, "it's just, it's—it's the truth. It's been months—"

"Some couples try for _years, _Lexie," he reminds her patiently.

Her breath catches as her eyes fly to his. "Mark," she whispers fearfully, her eyes wide. "Mark, we don't _have _years. We—we don't have that kind of time."

Mark Sloan takes a slow, steady breath, and holds his wife's gaze for a long moment. Her wide eyes gradually narrow, until they fall closed altogether. When they do, he takes a step closer.

"Hey," he whispers softly, cupping her elbow gently. "Hey, look at me," he murmurs, waiting until her eyes open and meet his before speaking. "I swear to you we'll do this, okay? We'll have a baby, I promise." He stares at her, his blue eyes grave and focused completely on her. "I'll never stop trying till we do."

Despite his serious tone, laughter escapes Lexie's lips almost immediately after he's finished speaking. And once she's started, she can't stop. Her shoulders rock forward, and giggles escape her throat as she leans her head against his chest. When she pulls herself together a few minutes later and looks up to meet his eyes again, he's staring at her in blatant confusion. This only causes her to break into laughter again, but more briefly this time.

Replying to his heartfelt statement with obvious amusement a few seconds later, she smiles, "That's just an excuse for endless sex, now, isn't it?"

Mark smiles, more at her returning happiness than anything else, before jokingly replying, "Maybe."

They stare at each other for a few seconds before Lexie reaches down, seeks out his hand with hers, and squeezes it gently. "But I know what you meant," she tells him softly, serious now. "And I can't thank you enough."

"There's no need to thank me," Mark replies. "You're not the only one who wants to see one of those tests show up positive."

"You have _no idea _how much I want that to happen," Lexie admits quietly, meeting his cool blue eyes.

Mark smiles softly, staring back at her. "I have some idea." He leans forward to kiss her gently. "We'll have a baby together, okay?" He leans his forehead against hers. "One way or another, we _will_ have a baby. I promise you that."

Lexie sighs softly at his words, giving him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," she whispers quietly, pulling him close for a hug. "Thank you so much."

. . .

_April:_

. . .

"Mark." Lexie calls her husband's name softly as she steps into their kitchen.

"Yeah?" He asks. His voice floats up from the floor of their kitchen as he rummages within the cupboards beneath the kitchen sink. "What's up?"

"I…" She takes a deep breath, but her voice still shakes. "I have s—something to tell you."

"Yeah?" He calls again, his head still hidden from view within the cabinet and his voice muffled. "What is it, Lex?"

"I, um…" Lexie trails off nervously. "I…"

"Out with it," Mark calls from beneath the sink. "What did you break now, Lex?" He swears a second later, and she hears a banging noise in one of the pipes. "This drain you clogged is going to have to be replaced," he mutters, obviously frustrated. "There's no way I can—"

"Mark, will you look at me, please?" Lexie cuts sharply, unable to curb her anxiety.

He removes his head from beneath the sink immediately at her tone of voice, straightening up and looking her in the eye. "What is it?" Mark asks again, his voice much softer this time as he.

"It…" He hears her voice catch and he feels his blood run cold for a minute, sure that something's gone horribly wrong. But then she says four simple words that make his blood run hot and alive again, coursing through his veins on the current of their promise for the future. "It's positive," she manages to say. "I'm pregnant." A smile stretches over her face as she's finally able to tell him, and a relieved, almost hysterical, laugh escapes her as she holds out the plastic test so he can see.

"You—are?" Mark whispers, his eyes darting down to see the positive reading before returning to his wife's face. "You really are?"

Lexie nods quickly, and he watches, frozen in place, as happy tears spill from her eyes. "Yes, I am," she whispers, her voice hushed in near disbelief and overwhelming happiness.

A second later, he finds himself again and surges forward towards her. Lexie's sure that if they were standing a few more feet apart, he'd be running towards her. He envelops her in a tight hug when he's close enough, squeezing her body to his as if trying to steal her breath.

"We made a baby," she whispers in his ear, holding him tight and wrapping her arms around his neck. "We did it. We finally did it."

She can hear him sniff loudly at her words as his head rests on her right shoulder blade. Lexie pulls back, her hands drifting from the back of his neck to hold his face in her hands. "We're going to have a baby," she tells him, watching the tears she saw swimming in his eyes the day they got married fall down his cheeks. "You and I," she whispers, feeling her eyes prick all over again and her throat grow tight at his reaction to the news. "You and I are going to have a baby together, Mark."

She listens to him take a ragged breath before he pulls her face to his, kissing her deeply. "I love you so much," he whispers when their lips break for air. Lexie leans her head against his, letting their foreheads and noses touch as they breathe each other in. "I love you so, _so_ much."

Lexie sucks in a shaky breath, firming up her grip on his cheeks. "I love you, too," she whispers back. Tears fall from her eyes when she speaks, but her mouth is still spread wide in a happy smile. "We're—we're going to be a family, Mark," she manages to say. "A _real_ family," she whispers in quiet awe before his lips seek hers out again and his hands clutch her body ever closer.

. . .

_Author's Note: **Please leave me a review** with your thoughts on the chapter!_


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35:**

_Author's Note: Originally, I had no intention of writing about Lexie's pregnancy. I was going to skip right to the eighth month of her pregnancy and keep it like that (you'll see why)… But as I was reading over your reviews, and I felt a little guilty just skipping past all that time. So hopefully, these first few sections will suffice. (Before I forget, let me add in a quick warning—there's a light sex scene in here. Nothing much, but, as always, just warning ya.)_

_This chapter picks up three months after the last chapter. To keep things simple, just remember that each section is spaced a month apart, excluding September._

_Thank you all for your reviews on the last chapter!_

_Please enjoy this one as well:_

_. . ._

_June, three months later_

. . .

"Arizona's been looking at me funny," Lexie announces as she walks into the apartment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mark calls from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready, by the way."  
>"Oh, thank you," Lexie sighs in relief, dumping her purse by the door and heading towards the dining table. "Sorry I'm so late, one of my kids coded—"<p>

"Is he okay?" Mark asks, setting identical plates of fish and rice in front of either chair.

"She," Lexie corrects, "is fine. There was a scare with one of her medications, and since we just operated—"

Mark nods. "Parents went crazy."

Lexie half-smiles, just thinking about the fact that they will soon fall under that demographic as well: parents. "Uh, yeah," she replies after a moment, taking her seat. "I had to bring in Arizona to get them to completely calm down." She glances to her watch. "God, it's almost eight-thirty." She gives him a guilty frown as he walks around the island to sit next to her. "I'm so sorry I'm this late. I was supposed to be home an hour ago—"

Mark waves a hand, passing her a knife and fork. "Don't worry about it." He takes a seat next to her. "So Arizona looked at you funny over that? Because you had to bring her in to calm down a couple whacked-out parents?"

Lexie shakes her head with a smile, taking a bite of her fish. "Mm, it's good," she murmurs after second. "And no, it wasn't that," she adds, catching his eye. "She thinks I'm getting fat," Lexie informs him.

Mark grins, chuckling. "And what did you say?"

"Well, she asked if I wanted to come to some to some cycling class she's taking with Callie—"

"Subtle," Mark notes.

"She's a forthright person," Lexie replies. "But I said it wouldn't be a good idea in my condition."

Mark shrugs. "You wouldn't have any problem going if you wanted to. You could even—Wait," he interrupts himself, turning to meet his wife's eyes. "You _told her_ about the baby?"

Lexie smiles at his shock, shaking his head. "No, don't worry, I didn't. I faked some cramps and back pains to get out of it," she explains.

Mark stares at her for a few seconds before sighing quietly. "Remind me why we haven't told anyone again?"

"Mark," Lexie replies patiently, "we've been over this. I didn't want to tell anyone until we got past—"

"—the first trimester," Mark finishes for her. "Yes, I know. But nothing has gone wrong; the baby's still there. It's two days until July," he reminds his wife. "Time to tell people."

Lexie sighs. "Fine," she mutters after a moment, taking another bite of fish.

"We can invite them here for the Fourth," Mark suggests.

Lexie chuckles. "Yes, and for what purpose? You can't even see the fireworks from our apartment."

"Well, the purpose would be to announce the fact that we're having a baby together, but I see how that can pale in comparison to an annual pyrotechnics show."

Lexie rolls her eyes. "I mean, what are we going _tell _everyoneto get them to come here?" Lexie corrects. "I can't just go up to Arizona and say, 'So Mark and I are having a baby together. Want to come to dinner? Forget what I just said; we've got a big announcement.'"

"Well, maybe that would shut her up about your weight," Mark smirks. "And, _no_, I was thinking we'd just have a nice dinner. Invite our friends. You can bring Molly, too," he adds.

Lexie waves a hand. "She already knows."

"I think she'd want to come, regardless," he points out.

"Yeah, she would." Lexie nods after a moment. "Okay. We'll make a list and talk to them all tomorrow."

Mark nods, turning back to his dinner. "Sounds good."

"Oh, and by the way," Lexie adds offhandedly as she takes a bite of rice. "Arizona is coming. So you have to invite Callie."

Mark shrugs. "Fine."

"Fine?" Lexie repeats dubiously, staring at him.

"She apologized," Mark reminds her.

"That doesn't mean you forgave her," Lexie points out, remembering the very short and awkward conversation they'd had when she'd found out they were married.

Mark sighs softly, staring at his wife. "No," he concedes finally. "It does not."

"Do me a favor," Lexie urges him, "and just forgive her already. That part of my life—both our lives—is in the past. Why don't you leave that fight in the past, too?"

It's a long minute before Mark mutters an annoyed, "Fine." He looks up a moment later, catching his wife's eye. "Just remember that I'm not promising anything, okay? I'll talk to her, but that's it."  
>"Good," Lexie nods. "That's all I ask."<p>

. . .

_July_

_. . ._

"Okay," Mark begins, standing up from his chair and looking down the length of his dining room table. "I guess I should start by explaining why Lexie and I asked you all here tonight." His eyes flicker to his wife, and he can't help but grin. "Well, we both thought that—"

There's an impatient sigh from the other end of the table, and Mark quickly finds Teddy Altman's sharp eyes staring at him. "Can we hurry this up, please?" She asks after a tense second. She looks around when she notices that everyone else is staring at her. "What?" She snaps defensively. "I just got off a five-hour surgery and came straight here." She turns to Mark. "I haven't eaten since noon!"

Mark glares at her for a moment before replying, "Stop interrupting and maybe I'll consider feeding you." He pauses, waiting to see if she has another other complaints. When Teddy simply flops back in her chair with crossed arms, he resumes speaking. "Like I was saying," Mark continues, "Lexie and I thought that now would be a good time to—"

"Why did you have to bring the food out if you were going to talk for an hour?" Teddy complains, groaning aloud. "Seriously, the smell is driving me crazy. It—"

"_You're _driving me crazy," Mark half-growls. "Will you _shut up, _please, because this is important—"

Callie Torres' amused chuckle interrupts him. She glances between Mark and Lexie, her eyes flitting from one end of the table to the other. "Oh, just spit it out already, you two!" She grins. "Whatever the news is, just say it, so Teddy can stop acting like a starving animal and return to being a normal human." She smirks, looking between the apprehensive couple before her eyes settle on the plastic surgeon. "What'd you do, knock her up or something?" She laughs. "Just tell us, whatever it is!"

Mark's face freezes immediately at her joking guess, his eyes flying to his wife's.

"Oh, _shit_," Callie whispers immediately, grasping the reality of her words in mere seconds. Her head whips around automatically, her eyes flying to Lexie. "I'm so sorry," she whispers frantically. "It was a joke, I—I had no idea! I never mean to ruin the surprise, I just—Lexie, I'm _so sorry_—"

"_AH-HA_!" Arizona Robbins shouts, jumping to her feet and pointing a triumphant finger at her coworker. Her eyes bright and victorious as they zero in on the brunette at the other end of the table. "I _knew_ you weren't fat!" She declares happily. "It's physically _impossible_ for you to get fat!"

"Arizona—" Lexie begins with a laugh.

"You're having a kid?" Derek asks in disbelief, staring at Mark with wide eyes.

"Uh, yeah," Mark replies, turning to the neurosurgeon and removing himself from the spectacle across the table. "I thought Meredith would've—"

"How long have you known?" Derek interrupts.

"Three months," Mark replies slowly, watching in confusion as his best friend's eyes narrow to critical blue slits. "What—"

"You have known about this for _three months,_" Derek begins incredulously,"and in all that time you never once _thought _to tell me—"

"I—"

"Have we or have we not been best friends since the first grade?" Derek interrupts angrily.

"You threw a basketball at my head at recess," Mark replies sharply. "I wouldn't exactly call us best friends in first grade."

Derek's mouth twists into a frown. "You'll never forget that, will you? I was _five_, Mark."

"Yeah, well, it made quite an impression, Shep. I had a lump on my head for a week and a half. Even my parents noticed."

"But this—this—" Derek throws up his hands, at a loss for words. Sitting beside him, Meredith smiles, getting to her feet and walking a few steps to her brother-law-in. She hugs him briefly, glancing to Derek as she pulls back.

"I think what my husband was trying to say," she beings, is that he's feeling—"

"—forgotten," Derek cuts in. "Pushed aside. Neglected. Abandoned."

"—_overwhelmed,_" Meredith corrects sternly, "and he can't quite come up with an appropriate response."

Mark chuckles. "Don't worry about it," he replies. "Derek's never been one for appropriate responses." He smiles at Meredith. "At least you know how to handle yourself." He smirks a second later. "And at least you didn't tackle Lexie like Molly did."

Meredith's forehead creases, glancing down the table to her youngest half-sister. "What?" She asks after a moment, looking back to Mark.

"Oh," he replies off-handedly. "It was a while ago. May, I think. Molly almost tackled her to the ground." He grins at the memory. "It was like she was trying to squeeze the life out of Lexie with one hug. I thought I was going to have to take her to the hospital," he jokes.

Meredith opens her mouth to reply, but before she does, she turns around, walking quickly to the far side of the dining room table. Mark watches her go, confused at her change in behavior, before shrugging and turning back to his best friend. "So," he begins, "are you—"

"Ah," Derek cuts in. "Did you just remember I was here? Your best friend?"

Mark rolls his eyes, sinking into his chair with a sigh. He glances down the other side of the table tiredly, watching in confusion as all three Grey sisters seem to all be drawn into the same argument.

"You told _Molly_ but not _me_?" Meredith demands when she comes to standstill next to Lexie's chair. The brunette looks over, startled by the outrage in the blonde's voice.

"Mer," she smiles, "what are you—"

"I should've known first!" Meredith half-shouts.

"You knew we were trying," Lexie replies with a light laugh. "Isn't that enough? Plus," she adds, "I thought you _didn't_ want all the naked details. You said so at—"

"_Lexie_," Meredith sighs in exasperation. "I am going to be an _aunt—_and it didn't even cross your mind to inform me of that reality? I mean, not telling Derek I get, because—he's useless."

"Hey!" The neurosurgeon protests from the far side of the table. Meredith waves him away impatiently.

"I may fail to tell you thinks now and again," Mark mutters when Derek settles back into his seat, "but at least I don't call you useless."

Derek shakes his head, glaring down the table at his wife. "Remind me again why I married that woman. I seem to have _forgotten_."

Mark grins, chuckling. He's about to reply when he hears the chair next to him get pulled away. Teddy Altman sits down heavily. Her eyes linger on the bowl on rice sitting between her seat and Derek's for a few seconds before turning to Mark.

"If I offer my congratulations," Teddy begins, "can I _please _eat?"

Mark smirks, standing up and reaching down the table to grab the plate of chicken from the center of the table. He sets it in front of Teddy, glancing down the table as he hears the eldest Grey carry on loudly.

"But _me—_" Meredith is saying. "You couldn't tell _me_? Your _sister_? You lived in my house for almost five years!"

"Dig in," he tells the cardiothoracic surgeon, "I have a feeling we'll be here for a while."

"Oh, thank _god,_" Teddy replies enthusiastically, already picking up and a fork and a knife to carve into the meat. "By the way," she adds, "that is really great news. About the baby. Just fantastic." Derek and Mark watch in fascination as she remains completely focused on transferring the food in front of her to her plate without once looking up to meet the expecting father's eyes. "Great, good," Teddy mutters, staring at her food with her knife and fork poised to act. "Awesome news."

"Just eat, Altman," Mark sighs. "Congratulate me when you've returned to sanity."

Teddy doesn't even reply, nor nod in thanks. She digs into her food without a word, and Mark and Derek lapse into silence as Molly and Meredith argue over who's the more important sister.

Mark catches his wife's eye with an amused roll of his eyes. Lexie's grinning at him when he looks back to her, and as she reclines comfortably in her chair, letting the arguments and fights continue on without her, she mouths the words, _I told you so._

Mark smiles, muttering under his breath. "I did not think it would be this bad."

"Really?"

Mark looks to his left, seeing Callie stand to the right of Teddy's chair. She spares a half-disgusted glance for the starving surgeon before catching Mark's eyes. "You really didn't think it would be this bad?" She repeats with amusement. "You obviously don't know your friends." She looks around, glancing from the dejected Derek to the totally out-of-it and soon-to-be-proclaimed competitive eater Teddy Altman. "Can I talk to you in private for a minute?" She asks quietly.

Mark nods, sparing a quickly glance to Lexie before following after the Latina. She smiles as the watches them walk away, hoping things will be sorted out once and for all. Her attention is quickly diverted.

"Hey, pregnant lady," Arizona calls, practically shoving her way through the still-bickering Molly and Meredith to get to Lexie, "we have to talk about maternity leave."

"So," Callie begins as they walk into the kitchen. She comes to a stop by the island, and the two stand side-by-side.

"Callie," Mark begins quietly. "If—"

"Congratulations."

Mark starts, his head whipping over to hers at the compliment. Callie smiles at his disbelieving expression. "You really think I wouldn't be happy about this?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

Mark shrugs, not trusting himself to reply.

Callie sighs tiredly after a moment. "Okay," she begins. "Can we just get this over with?" She pauses, waiting for Mark to look at her. Once he painstakingly raises his eyes to hers, she continues. "I was a bitch," she states. "I get it, okay? I see that now, I understand—" She breaks off with an exasperated sigh. "Mark," she says quietly. She holds his gaze for a long minute before speaking softly. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm sorry for what I said and what I did…" She heaves a quiet breath. "But you just have to understand how all this looked to me."

"Maybe if you had understood how it looked _to me_—"

"Right," Callie cuts in, "cause you sure were big on sharing back then."

Mark sighs angrily, turning away. For a second, Callie's sure he's going to drop their conversation there and walk back to the party. But he freezes on in the doorway, and eventually, after a few minutes, he turns around. "Just say it," he tells her quietly. "Just say what you came to say and we can all move on."

Callie frowns at him, but she resists the urge to throw up her hands and walk away herself. Instead, she takes a few steps to her right so she can look directly at him. "I had no idea," she begins quietly. "I had no idea what she meant to you, okay? Obviously, I knew you loved her—_loved—_" she stresses "—but I thought that was in the past. You two broke up, and then she dated Jackson, and from then on, it was just him and her. I—Mark, it never crossed my mind that you two would do something like that. I never thought—"

"And here you go," he cuts in. "Blaming us _again_. Condemning us _again._"

"I'm not condemning anyone," Callie replies evenly. "And if I was going to blame anyone, it'd be her."

"Funny," Mark mutters, "she wasn't the one you attacked."

"I was _angry,_" Callie reminds him, recalling that night. "I was angry, okay, because I thought you were finally pulling your life together—"

"I was," Mark cuts in, feeling his temper flare. "I have."

"Yes, I know," Callie replies, forcing herself to stay calm. "I know that. But back then—you can see how I thought you were just ruining her marriage for no reason."

"No, I really can't, Cal."

"_Mark._"

"What?" He snaps, his eyes flashing to hers. "What do you want me to say? That I understand? That you were justified? Because I don't," he answers for her. "And you weren't."

"If you would let me apologize," Callie tells him, "then maybe you would understand."

"You had no right to say what you did."

Callie nods. "Yes, I know that." She pauses, waiting for him to speak again. "Look," she mutters quietly when he doesn't, "I had no idea about you two. I had no idea that what had been going on had been going on for _years… _At most, I thought you two had slept together just once or twice and she decided to call it quits with Jackson for old times' sake. I…" Callie lets out a large sigh, meeting his intense blue gaze. "Mark, I didn't know you still loved her. I knew you hadn't moved on to anyone else, but I thought you'd at least moved past _her…_" Callie gives him a small smile. "And when I heard it all, I… I didn't think it was possible. I didn't think you two could have kept that up for that long, I…" She shakes her head. "Jesus, Mark, I had no idea you—let alone anyone—could love someone like that when you knew that they were so permanently with someone else."

Mark swallows, surprised to find the action rough and uncomfortable. "I couldn't let her go," he manages after a moment. "It wasn't an option."

"You love her." Callie stares at him in silence, but when she speaks, her voice is far from unkind. "You always have."

It's a long moment before Mark finally nods.

"I didn't understand that back then," Callie informs him quietly. "I thought it was purely about sex, because I didn't believe you could love someone that long without actually being with them. Not just you, but—anyone. I didn't think that was possible, I didn't think it could be real. I…" She sighs quietly. "I underestimated you—and her—and I… I am truly sorry for that, Mark." She takes a quiet breath. "I realize, especially now that you two are having a baby together, that it was real. You and her, it was real. It is real."

Mark eyes her quietly for a minute before walking back to her side. He leans against the counter next to her for a silent minute before asking, "Why did you pick tonight to apologize?"

Callie looks over at him, chuckling kindly at his obliviousness. "Your wife is pregnant," she reminds him, as if he'd forgotten. "I think it's high time we got all of this shit out of the way before the baby comes."

Callie watches as a small smile tugs at her old friend's lips. "What?" She asks, wondering what's making her old friend smile.

"You…" He trails off, with a shake of his head. He turns toward the Latina and stares at her for a quiet moment. Callie finds a smile pull her own lips apart when she sees there's no anger in his expression. There's no fury or hatred, no exasperation or tiredness, no defeat that this is the way things are. Instead, his smile reaches his eyes, brightening their blue depths.

"You've never called her my wife before."

Callie smirks at him, nudging his side lightly. "Well, you haven't exactly talked to me since you became her husband. So I didn't have an opportunity."

Mark can't help but smile at the title, but he glance to his feet, muttering, "I didn't think that we had anything to say to each other anymore."

Callie smiles faintly. "Yeah… Why was I invited, anyway? Tonight? It didn't seem like you—" She breaks off, coming to the conclusion herself. "Lexie," she settles on.

Mark nods. "She wanted Arizona to be here, and she thought it'd be insulting not to invite you. Plus…she's been wanting us to make up."

Callie nods, giving him a small smile. "I guess she'll be happy, then."

"That's the goal."

Callie chuckles quietly. "Oh, so this is all for her, is it?" She jokes.

"Yes," Mark replies. His expression is grave; his eyes serious. "It is."

Callie studies his face for a second before nodding her head and smiling. "Okay," she replies easily. She turns and heads back to the dining room; Mark follows after her a moment later.

"I think you should go and save your wife," Callie mutters as they approach the table.

Mark's eyes scan their guests quickly: Derek and Teddy are the only two eating. Arizona seems to be trying to hold a conversation with Lexie, but she is continually interrupted. Standing on either side of Lexie's chair, Molly and Meredith are still arguing, their slightly similar voices reverberating around the apartment as they quarrel loudly over Lexie's head. Every few seconds, one of them tugs on her arm, demanding her opinion on their character. Mark quickly makes a beeline for that half of the table, intent on silencing the two sisters.

Mark nods in agreement. "She's going to go deaf if this goes on much longer," Mark mutters to Callie before making his way quickly across the room and separating the half-sisters.

. . .

_August_

. . .

"Have you thought about who to pick for godparents?" Lexie asks one night in late August, finding her husband's eyes in the darkness beside her as they lie in bed together.

"I just assumed we'd go with Meredith and Derek if we picked anyone at all," Mark replies. He glances down to her growing stomach. "It isn't too late, is it?"

Lexie shrugs. "I don't think the timing matters much. But," she whispers softly, finding his hand and lacing her fingers through his. "If—if something happens to us, I don't want our baby to be without parents."

"If something happens to us, she _will _be without parents," Mark replies, stroking the back of her hand softly with his thumb. "There's kind of no way around that once it happens."

"Mark, come on. You and I both know that Meredith and Derek would treat her like she was their own kid." Mark nods in agreement. "I just wanted to make it official, is all," Lexie tells him. "I didn't want to be begging them to take care of our baby while I'm in labor."

Mark laughs quietly. "But they could hardly refuse then, could they?"

Lexie smiles. "No, they couldn't. But I doubt they'd refuse anyway."

"Okay," Mark nods. "Let's ask tomorrow, then."

Lexie thinks for a second before a knowing smirk spreads over her face. "Derek will demand to know the sex, you know. I'm sure that will be his price for being godfather."

Mark grins. "I know."

"And you still aren't going to tell him," Lexie concludes. She shakes her head, twisting her head to the side on the pillow so she can get a clearer look at him. "Remind me again why we're keeping it a secret?"

"Because I get to keep him guessing all the while," Mark replies. Lexie can see his eyes light up with mischief even in the darkness. "It's more fun this way," he grins.

"Says the man who hates surprises," Lexie adds. "How could you inflict this kind of torture on your _best_ friend?"

"He doesn't consider it torture," Mark smiles. "At least, not as much as I do. Plus, I rarely get to hold things over him. Just give me this _one thing_," he implores her.

Lexie shakes her head at his antics with a laugh. "Fine, fine," she mutters. "Go ahead and screw with him if you like."

"You better not tell," Mark warns her.

Lexie holds up her right hand solemnly. "I swear I won't tell."

Mark grins, taking her hand in his and squeezing both her right and left within his hands. "Good," he whispers, just before pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers.

. . .

_October_

_. . ._

"I am fat," Lexie states, standing in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom.

Mark sighs from the adjoining bathroom, spitting out the last of his toothpaste and sticking his head out the door. "You're pregnant," Mark replies, studying her from head to toe as she stand before the mirror in a pair of black panties and a bra.

"I'm still fat."

"No, you're not."

"Mark," Lexie mutters, obviously annoyed with his coddling. "Come on." She turns to the side, resting her hands lightly on her distended stomach. "It's fat. And I look ridiculous."

"It's a _baby_," Mark corrects, coming up behind her and joining his hands with hers. He leans down to press his lips into the soft skin of her shoulder. "And you look so far from ridiculous."

Lexie rolls her eyes at him, catching his eyes in the mirror a moment later. "Look at me," she instructs him, running her hands over her bare stomach. "I'm too small for all this weight. It looks like I'm carrying five babies instead of just one."

She watches as half of his mouth turns up in a grin.

"Maybe they read the ultrasound really, really wrong," he offers.

Lexie shakes her head, adamant. "I look ridiculous," she repeats.

"You don't look ridiculous," he murmurs, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her midsection as he steps closer. "You look—"

Lexie shoves him away the second his lower body comes in contact with hers, spinning around with accusing eyes. "_Mark_!"

"What?" He asks, stumbling back and feigning ignorance as to the interruption.

"You think I didn't feel that?" Lexie demands, sparing a quick glare at his waist before her returning her sharp eyes to his own. "Jesus, Mark, come on!"

"What?" He protests, internally cursing himself for not having a more graceful lead-in. _Idiot, _he thinks to himself. "I can't help it!"

"You can also not be so _obvious_ about it!" She glares at him, pointing to the door. "Go away. I can't even _think_ about having sex with you right now."

He raises his eyebrows. "_Excuse me, _Lex?"

"God," she groans, "not that I should be boosting _your _self-worth, but this isn't about _you_, you narcissistic jerk! It's because I'm fat, Mark!" She puts her hands on her hips, glaring angrily at him. "I am _not_ getting naked right now and inviting you to go to town just because _you_ can't keep it in your pants!"

"You're not fat," he replies automatically, stepping towards her. He glances at her underwear. "And you're practically naked, already, if you haven't noticed. _I _certainly have and—"

She shakes her head at him in disgust. "Of course _you _noticed. And I thought you were legitimately trying to make me feel better," Lexie accuses. "But all you wanted to do was sleep with me."

He grins. "You should take it as a compliment, Little Grey."

"I take it as an insult!" Lexie snaps. "And I am not little, I am _fat_!"

"And doesn't it warm your heart to know that I'll still want you when you inevitably gain a hundred more pounds?" He smirks, knowing he's tempting fate.

Lexie's eyes go wide for a second before she snatches her hairbrush off the dresser. He ducks, laughing aloud as she chucks it at him.

"Go away before I really hit you," she tells him.

"I'm reporting you for spousal abuse," Mark calls over his shoulder as he leaves their bedroom.

"Yeah, we'll see if you can get to the phone," Lexie mutters darkly before moving back to examine herself in front of the mirror.

. . .

"Is it safe to come to bed?" Lexie asks later that night around ten o'clock. "I really don't want to get jumped in my sleep," she says, eying her husband warily.

"I will keep my hands to myself." Mark sighs in exasperation, crossing his arms tightly to prove his point. "Okay?"

He watches as she climbs slowly into bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. "What are you, a nun?" He mutters. "Seeing two inches of skin will not make me—"

Lexie rolls her eyes. "I am _cold, _Mark," she informs him. "It's the fall."

"Oh," he mutters, looking away in embarrassment for having jumped to conclusions.

She smirks. "You really have to cool it with this sex thing," she tells him. "I am no closer to sleeping with you tonight than I was this morning." She eyes him. "You're only going to suffer more and drive yourself crazy if you keep this up."

"Trust me," Mark mutters under his breath, "no one is suffering more than me right now."

Lexie half-smiles, wanting to tease him, but knowing it would only make things worse. She leans over, kissing his cheek chastely in apology. "Night," she whispers.

"Night," he mutters in reply, turning over. She smiles slightly as he turns away, wondering absentmindedly just how much he really _is _suffering. She brushes the thought from her mind a moment later, settling herself against the sheets and closing her eyes. She falls soundly asleep in just a few minutes.

. . .

"Mark," Lexie whispers. "Mark, wake up."

"Hm?" He murmurs, forcing himself awake. He blinks at the clock beside the bed, blearily noting that it's four in the morning. He rolls over a second later, his vision still fuzzy in the darkness as he looks for her. "What is it? What are you—_Lexie._" He breaks off with a hiss, involuntarily bucking into her hand when he feels her fingers slip beneath his boxers and close around his penis. Lexie smiles to herself at his response, shifting closer.

"I don't think this really needs an explanation," she whispers in his ear, pressing her body against his and kissing his neck as she strokes him. "But if you want one…" She trails off, using both her hands to arouse him. "_I _didn't really feel like keeping my hands to myself."

Mark lets out a groan that sounds like a mixture between her name and a curse word. It's a few seconds before he can manage coherent speech. "What…happened to being too fat for—sex?"

"Well," Lexie replies, continuing her slow, delicious torture with her hands, "I changed my mind."

"And it was—that simple?"

"It's like a flipping a switch these days," Lexie replies softly. "I'm either totally on or totally off. And once I'm on…" She trails off seductively. "Well, I don't turn off easily."

"I—_Jesus, Lex_—I prefer totally on."

Lexie grins, squeezing him again before removing her hands from his thoroughly stiffened arousal. "I prefer you totally on, too," she grins, pressing her lips to his. Mark kisses back passionately, automatically rolling over to crouch above her—and immediately regretting the decision. Only when he's bracing himself above her with his arms fully extended does he feel like he's not crushing her.

"This won't work," he half-pants.

"Oh, Mark, come on," Lexie groans, tossing her head impatiently. She immediately regrets the obvious torture she must've put him through all day with her refusals. "Please, I need this. I need you. Right now. I woke up at three and waited an entire _hour_ before waking you up! An _hour_! I can't wait any longer, Mark, please—"

"No," he cuts in quickly, "I meant like this." He looks pointedly between their bodies. "We can't do it like this, not in this position. I can't reach you."

Lexie sighs, deflated. "Well, I can't be on top," she sighs. "I'm too heavy to get it done properly."

Mark grins down at her. "Let's try something else, then."

"Mark," Lexie warns as he rolls off of her, "please remember that my body does not move like it used to. I'm not twenty-four anymore. And I have gained a few dozen pounds."

He laughs, sitting up in bed and bringing her with him. "Oh, don't worry. I never forget."

Lexie stares at him with narrowed eyes. "_You_," she says with a pointed finger, "need to learn when to _shut up _around pregnant women. Most wouldn't stand for your shit."

He grins. "Why are you, then?"

Lexie stares at him as if he asked her some inane question, like why the sky was blue. "Because I'm using you for sex, _obviously_."

He grins, running his hands over her sides. "Right, of course."

"And this baby is just a cumbersome side-effect."

Mark laughs aloud. "I'm going to tell her you said that," he grins. "That's the first thing I'll say when I see her. 'Your Mommy called you an accident.'"

Lexie's eyes widen. "Don't you dare! You of all people know how much I wanted a baby! This wasn't an accident—"

"It was joke, Lex," he assures her. He smiles slightly when she calms down. "Come on, I would never say that. You know that."

"Sorry," Lexie mutters. "My mind's just going crazy, I can't focus—sex!" She half-shouts, as if just remembering the reason why they're both wide-awake at four in the morning. "Come on, Mark, let's go already!"

"Okay, okay," he chuckles. "So there's a couple things we can do. If you want, we—"

"Mark," Lexie interrupts seriously, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Look, I love the planning and consideration, I do, and I love you, but—please, just whatever way is fastest. Whatever way can get me off quickest, because we've wasted enough time dicking around." She rolls her eyes when she sees his characteristic smirk take shape on his lips at her word choice. "I just—I need you," she whispers after a second. "Please, can we just—"

"Fine," he replies, holding back a wide grin at her sudden insistence. "Just turn around."

. . .

"Oh my," Lexie pants, collapsing against the sheets a couple minutes later. "Oh my—"

"God," Mark finishes for her, falling to the pillows beside her. "Oh my god."

"I can't breathe," she manages. "Seriously, I c—can't."

"I—I think my heart is going to beat out of my chest," Mark admits, still shaking.

They each take a few minutes to compose themselves, and when she can finally catch her breath, Lexie grins over at him. "I'm not going crazy, right?" She wonders aloud, reaching down to thread their fingers together. "That was—way more intense than usual."

"Yes," Mark replies, still struggling to slow his heartbeat, "it was."

Lexie grins, leaning over to kiss him hard on the mouth in thanks. "That was amazing," she whispers, pulling back. "Thank you."

"Don't go anywhere just yet," he murmurs, his eyes falling closed.

Lexie grins when his hands pull her closer and hold her in place. She leans against him, breathing deeply. Though he likes to play it up, she knows it will be a while yet until they're both ready for round two. In the meantime, she takes his free hand in hers, placing it on the large bulge that used to be her flat tummy.

"Hmm," Mark sighs softly, spreading his fingers wide and running his hand over her smooth belly. "Your skin feels wonderful."

Lexie grins, kissing his shoulder. "It does, doesn't it?"

He smirks without lifting his eyes from her stomach. "Getting cocky, are we?"

"I just initiated some of the best sex of our lives, and you're warning me _not_ to be full of myself?" She grins. "Too late. I'm on top of the world."

"And that would be _my_ doing, I believe."

She chuckles. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

Mark laughs through a yawn. "That," he sighs, finally raising his eyes to hers, "what just happened here—will definitely help me sleep tonight."

Lexie leans over, resting her head on his shoulder. "I love sedating you with sex," she teases. "You sleep so peacefully afterwards. It's lovely to watch."

"Yeah, and I would still be sleeping peacefully _tonight_, but someone felt like exploring all over my—"

"You are seriously misunderstanding how much I wanted you," Lexie interrupts. "My libido right now is unreal. It's on or it's off, and when it's on—" She grins, catching his eye. "Well, it just doesn't turn off. Not unless someone does it for me."

Mark smirks. "And notice," he informs her a moment later, "how I helped you with that without a second thought. I gave you sex right away. I didn't hesitate, I didn't _complain _or _whine _about being _fat_—"

"Yes," Lexie laughs, "and you only did so because I had you half ready before you even woke up."

Mark shakes his head with a laugh, eyeing her. "I would say you were sexually harassing me by feeling me up while I was asleep," he tells her, "but I don't think it would counts, seeing as I thoroughly enjoyed waking up to the feel of your hands on me."

Lexie smiles. "Yeah, I figured you would," she replies smugly.

"You're really are confident tonight, aren't you?" He grins, leaning forward to kiss to her. Lexie kisses him back, reaching over to cup the back of his neck. She sighs in quiet annoyance when she pulls back, sadly unable to climb above him and too tired to start a repeat performance.

But he's smiling gently at her when they pull apart. "Three more months?" He asks softly as they settle back against the mattress.

Lexie grins involuntarily at his words, looking over to find his eyes, bright and excited, in the darkness. She leans over, pressing her lips lovingly to his. "Three more months," she confirms quietly.

_. . ._

_November_

. . .

"Are you tired?" Mark asks after the applause for the final speaker dies away.

Lexie shakes her head, biting back a sigh at the question. She's betting that this must've been the fiftieth time he'd asked her that same worried question in that same worried tone since they arrived at the conference an hour and a half ago.

"Do you want to go home?" Mark presses, holding out a hand to help her to her feet as the lights in the large conference room come back on. Lexie ignores the way his eyes linger on the concealed bags beneath her eyes as he stares at her. Instead, she glances around at the rest of her husband's colleagues, noticing how they've all begun mingling with one another. _We'll be here for at least another two hours exchanging pleasantries, _she thinks to herself, attempting to bite back a tired yawn.

"Lex?" Mark presses, noting her attempts to hide her fatigue.

"No, no," she replies quickly. "I'm fine." She casts her eye around the crowded conference room, but she only recognizes about one out of every five surgeons that her gaze lands upon. And even then, she only knows their last name or their specialty. She knows Mark would be able to name every one, but there's a reason she was a plus-one at this conference and he was the invited guest. "Let's… stay," she yawns. "You have people to speak to…"

"You're my wife who is currently eight months pregnant," Mark replies seriously, taking a step closer and resting his hand lightly on her lower back to support her. "The people I have to speak to will understand if we need to go home."

Lexie looks up at him, searching his expression for the honesty that she's come to find written all over his face every time he opens his mouth these days. "You sure?" She asks softly, her brown eyes staring up into his. "This is an important night for you…" When she had insisted on accompanying him to the conference tonight, she hadn't exactly realized that she'd be on her feet for a good amount of the evening. And even though they were short heels she was wearing, having that extra weight on her feet—weight she was still getting acclimated to carrying around—made every step a tiresome challenge.

"I'm positive," Mark replies, the finality in his voice drawing her back to the present and away from her woes as he begins ushering her towards the conference's exit. "Come on," he says, taking her hand and leading her through the crowd. Lexie follows behind at a slightly slower pace, taking her time and placing her feet carefully to keep her fatigue in check.

"You know," Mark mutters in her ear once they're at the door, "I would carry you if you weren't so fat."

"Don't be an ass," Lexie replies, giving him a one-handed shove as they make their way through the hotel's lobby and out into the chilly fall night.

"Stay here," Mark tells her, pecking her lips quickly as he walks away from the hotel's entrance. "I'll get the car."

"Mark, I'm _fine_," Lexie replies, attempting to follow. "I can walk, you know!"

"Just sit on the bench, please," he calls, already striding across the parking lot. "It'll only take a second."

Lexie just shakes her head, but takes a seat as he had suggested nonetheless. She sighs, brushing the hair back from her face as she hears the hotel's doors open and close behind her with various guests coming and going. She is checking through her purse a few seconds later when she hears someone call her name from behind the bench.

"Lexie?" A familiar voice asks, cloaked in disbelief.

She turns her head, twisting in her seat to get a good look at the owner of the voice behind her.

"Jackson?" She asks, squinting into the semidarkness by the hotel's entrance.

He walks towards her slowly, as if still confused that it's her. "So how've you…" He trails off when his eyes find her whole body. "_Wow_."

Lexie looks down, smiling sheepishly at her rotund belly. "I know," she replies. "I'm a whale."

"No, no," Jackson excuses. "You, um, you look really good."

"_Right_," Lexie replies. "You don't need to be polite," she adds with a smile, "I'm enormous."

"I'm serious," Jackson replies. His tone of voice makes Lexie pause and causes her eyes to meet his. "You look great."

She gives him a small smile, blinking up at him gratefully. "Well… Thank you," she replies after a moment, stunned. "That's very sweet of you to say."

"So, uh…" Jackson looks away, clearing his throat awkwardly. "When did this happen?"

"What?" Lexie asks, before noticing he's gesturing towards her stomach. She covers her left hand quickly before answering. "Oh, about eight months ago."

"Really? I never would have guessed you were in the final trimester."

"Ha-ha," Lexie deadpans. "But, yeah... I am."

Jackson taps his shoe against the pavement, and despite wanting to ask so desperately who the father is, he forces himself to hold his tongue.

"Yeah, uh, my, um, my boyfriend was actually just here," Lexie replies, stumbling through the lie. "From Seattle Pres."

"Oh, yeah?" Jackson asks, feeling relief flood his veins. _It's not him._ He smirks at her a second later in his light spirits. "Seattle Pres, though? Come _on, _Lex."

"What?" She smiles, more out of relief that be bought the lie more than anything else. "He's a good guy."

"I'm sure he is." Jackson pauses. "From a second-rate hospital," he adds jokingly. Lexie shakes her head with a smile. "So he was here tonight?" Jackson asks after a moment, wracking his brain. He's almost one hundred percent sure there was only one male surgeon from Seattle Presbyterian Hospital at the conference tonight.

"Yeah. I just stepped outside for some air."

Jackson nods, not trusting himself to be able to control the smile on his face and preparing to take his leave. "Well… congratulations. I'm really happy for you."

"Thank you," Lexie replies.

"I've gotta get back," he says, jerking his thumb back towards the hotel.

"See you, then," she smiles, watching him go for a brief second before facing forward again.

Jackson Avery heads back inside, unable to keep a smile off his face. When he returns to the conference room, he quickly scans the crowd of surgeons, looking for the surgeon he remembers being told earlier in the night was from Seattle Presbyterian Hospital. He spots him—just a few yards away—and fluidly inserts himself into the conversation. When there's a momentary break, he turns to the surgeon, studying him for a moment before asking, "You know your girlfriend's sitting outside?"

"What?" He asks, turning around. "Donna's over there." He points across the room where a pretty blonde woman is chatting with a handful of doctors. He turns back to Jackson with an amused smile. "I think you've got the wrong guy, man."

Jackson forehead creases, and he stares at the man, confused. "You're from Seattle Pres, aren't you?" The man nods, and Jackson's confusion grows more pronounces. _Was there someone else that I missed?_ "But you're not…with Lexie Grey?"

"What?" The man laughs. "No, no, she's married."

Jackson pulls on his earlobe nervously. "I, uh, I think she got divorced, actually..."

The other surgeon frowns, glancing to the exit. "Well, no, I just saw her leave with her husband. Uh, what's-his-name…" He pauses, snapping his fingers to jog his memory. When that doesn't work, he turns to the man beside him. "Hey, Rob, who was that guy you were talking with before, about rhinoplasties? The one with the pregnant wife?"

"Oh, you mean Mark?" He glances to Jackson, noticing his rapt attention. "Yeah, that's Mark Sloan." He frowns. "Why, did you need to ask him something? You could run out and check, but they might already be gone. I think she was pretty tired. She's due next month, you know," he adds. "I'm surprised she even came." He lowers his voice with a grin. "I mean, come on. Sitting around listening to boring speeches for two hours? I'd rather sit at home and put my feet up if I were her."

"Oh, she was here for support," the woman next to him replies before Jackson can speak or even manage to take a breath. "Didn't want to leave him all by his lonesome."

"What? At a conference?" The man replies with a chuckle. "There are plenty of people to talk to."

"Oh, you know what I mean," the woman smiles. "She wanted to be by his side. Be on his arm. Plus, that was an _amazing_ dress for someone as far along as she is in her pregnancy. She had to show it off somewhere. I mean, did you see the color…"

The woman's voice trails off, fading away, as Jackson's ears are dominated by the feeling of blood rushing at high speed all through his body. _She's still lying to me, _he realizes, hurrying away from the group as quickly as he appeared. _After all this time, she still _**won't stop**_ lying to me._

_. . ._

He's at the hotel's entrance half a minute later, having jogged to the door, consumed by some sick desperation to find out of what the other surgeons had said was true. "Lexie!" He calls, striding quickly through the automatic door of the lobby. He's about to walk through the one that separates him from her, when something stops him in his tracks. What they had said back in the conference was true. She's with him. He closes his eyes automatically; as if blocking the very real images of them together before his very eyes would silence the voices he can hear clearly floating in through the thin glass panels of the hotel's entrance.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine, Mark," he hears his ex-wife reply. It's been so long; it seems like her voice is coming to him from a dream. "I can walk, you know. I'm not an invalid."

"Yeah, but you will be in about a month."

"But I'm not now, so calm down."

"You're tired, can I just help—"

"Oh, stop, will you? I did not get pregnant so you could spend every waking minute freaking out that something bad is going to happen to the baby."

"Well, I'm sorry I care about our family, Lex," he replies, sounding slightly offended. Jackson can hear his ex-wife sigh softly before speaking.

"I'm sorry," she replies after a moment, clearly contrite and chagrined. "You were right; I'm just tired." Her voice softens. "You know I love you for caring."

"Love you too. Now, let's go," Mark says, taking her right hand in his and supporting her waist with his left. Jackson can clearly see a wedding band on his ring finger, and a matching one on hers, when he manages to avert his eyes. The sight makes him feel dizzy, and Jackson has to reach out and place a hand on the glass in front of him to steady himself. His own words from all those months ago flow through his mind, taunting himself now just as much as he'd taunted her when he'd first voiced them. _Is it going to be a _**glorious** _reunion? __Oh, and when you're finally free of me, is he going to get down on one knee and propose, too?_

. . .

"You drove by," Lexie observes quietly, letting her husband know he didn't sneak past without a trace.

Mark shares a half-worried sidelong glance with his wife. "I didn't want to interrupt…"

"You wouldn't have."

Mark's lips reflexively curve upwards at this, knowing that she wasn't ashamed of their relationship—even in front of her ex-husband. "Still," he replies after a moment. "I didn't think it would be wise…"

"I know," Lexie tells him, resting her head on his shoulder and putting a hand on his knee as their car idles in front of the hotel. "And it wouldn't have been. Thank you."

"Of course," Mark whispers, kissing her forehead. They sit in silence for a moment. "You ready to go?"

"Home?" Lexie clarifies as she lifts her head and settles back into her seat. "Yes, definitely."

. . .

"You all right?"

"What?" Jackson turns around, seeing April Kepner watching him with understanding sympathy written all over her features.

"Are you going to be okay after what you just saw?" She asks quietly, her eyes never leaving his face.

"What I just saw…" He trails off, pretending he has no idea what she's talking about.

"Come on," she says, taking his hand. "You can talk to me."

April pulls him by the hand as they walk slowly back towards the lobby, moving at an almost glacial pace. She doesn't speak as they walk along, touring and out of the various curves of the hotel's large conference center and lobby. It's only after they've passed the doors to the conference they're supposed to be at twice, that he speaks.

"She married him," Jackson states, his voice completely flat.

"Yes."

"And she's—having a baby with him."

April nods, and he looks over at her silence. It only takes a second to see through the patience on her face, but when he realizes, he pulls them to a stop.

"You knew."

April taking in his accusatory tone, licking her lips slowly. "I did," she replies reluctantly.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Honestly, Jackson, I…" She sighs, closing her eyes. She had known this would come up, sooner or later, when he inevitable found out… "I really didn't think it was something you wanted to know."

"Well, that's my call, isn't it?" He replies. "Whether or not I want to know something—that's my call."

"Yes. It is." She sighs softly. "I just didn't want to be the one to tell you."

"Well…" Jackson frowns. "Why not?"

"You've heard the expression 'Don't kill the messenger?'" April asks. He nods, watching her and waiting for an explanation. "I didn't want you to be angry at _me_ over… over her."

"I wouldn't have been angry at you," Jackson replies immediately. "And… I'm not angry at her, either."

April raises her eyebrows, but doesn't push it. "Him, then?" She settles on.

Jackson sighs, looking down. He catches sight of their intertwined hands and a smile comes to his lips. "Not really."

"Oh, come on," April replies when his eyes meet hers again. He hears her voice cheer up when she spots the smile on his face. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," Jackson assures her. "I… Honestly, I'm not mad at anyone anymore. And I don't feel anything anymore—because it doesn't _matter _anymore."

"It doesn't _matter_?" April asks skeptically, staring at him in amazement. "Six years doesn't _matter_ anymore?"

_Eight years, _Jackson thinks, _she was with him for eight years. It's eight years_ _that doesn't matter anymore, not six._ But he doesn't bother correcting her. And that one small action makes him freeze for a second in realization: _I don't even care enough to correct her. _What he'd wished for so long to be true finally was: he didn't care, it didn't matter, and he'd moved on. He'd moved on to another place and a better person. _She's still lying to me, _Jackson remembers thinking just minutes ago. But that thought was only half-true. _She's still trying to _**protect**_ me, _he thinks to himself now, _from herself. She's lying so she doesn't have to hurt me anymore than she already has. _And even though the lie didn't hold up, even though he saw them with his own eyes, Jackson realizes that it wouldn't have made a difference either way. If he knew or didn't know about them—it wouldn't change what his life is now. And, he realizes, it somehow didn't hurt to see them together. It was shocking, it blindsided him… _But it didn't hurt._

"No," Jackson answers finally, looking up into April Kepner's disbelieving eyes as he steps towards her. "Six years with her doesn't matter anymore." He tilts his head towards hers, saying five simple words before covering her mouth with his. "Not when I have you."

When he pulls back a minute later, April's smiling up at him. "Conference?" She inquires happily.

Jackson stares at her, cocking his head to the side as if in confusion. "Now, why would I want to go back to a boring conference when I have you right here?"

"I'm sure someone would miss you if you left," April excuses, glancing over her shoulder.

"Hey," he replies, drawing her gaze back to him with a gentle hand on her cheek. "No one's going to miss me. Come on," he tugs on her hand, still clasped inside his, and begins walking towards the elevators. "Let's go upstairs."

"Jackson," April warns quietly a few seconds later as he calls for the elevator. "I don't think this is such a good idea. You just saw her—"

"Yes, and then I spent the next five minutes telling you how much I didn't _care_ about her or what she's doing with her life. I care about _my _life, which she is no longer a part of." He smiles down at her. "_You _are. So, come on," he replies, stepping onto the elevator. April looks over at him as she stands on the lobby floor. "You want to be a part of my life or what?" He asks, holding an arm out between them.

April exhales softly, looking to the floor with a smile before meeting his eyes. "Fine," she replies, taking his hand and stepping on the lift just before the doors close. "But don't blame me when people come after you at work for skipping out on the rest of the meeting."

"Blame you?" Jackson replies, hitting the button for their floor. "How could I blame _you _for anything?"

"You know," April muses as she tilts her head up to his. "That is a very good question. I can't be blamed." She smiles, laughter just behind her lips. "I'm perfect."

Jackson grins down at her, stepping forward again. "You're perfect," he agrees, placing a hand on her waist and drawing her body towards his.

. . .

Lexie breaks the silence softly as they're passing from one darkened street to the next. "Hey, Mark?"

Mark averts his eyes from road for a quick second, stealing a glance at his wife. "Yeah?" He asks tentatively, wondering if they're going to revisit the subject of her ex-husband after minutes of silence following their previous conversation.

"Can I pick her middle name?"

"Sure," he replies, his eyes automatically shifting to her swollen stomach briefly as a small smile takes place on his face. "What did you have in mind?"

"Susan," Lexie replies without missing a beat. "I wanted to name her after my mother."

Mark nods, catching his wife's eye. "She'd like that, I'm sure."

"She would," Lexie agrees softly, lapsing into silence again.

It's not until they're both inside and have undressed and climbed into bed that Lexie voices the other question that had been on her mind the whole drive home. "You… You know I don't regret anything, right?" She whispers softly, staring at her husband as she rests her head on a pillow.

"Hm?" Mark asks, his eyes blinking slowly as they focus on his wife.

"Seeing Jackson tonight," she explains quietly. "You know I've never had second thoughts, right? I've never regretted being with you, ever?"

Mark nods. "I know."

"I just…" Lexie bites her lip. "I didn't want you to worry," she whispers softly. "I didn't want you to think I'd see him and…" She trails off, biting down harder on her lower lip, not even wanting to go into it, but feeling the necessity to assure him. "I didn't want you to think I'd go _running back_ or something."

"Hey," Mark murmurs, tilting his head to look directly into her eyes. "You know I've never thought you would ever do that, don't you? I know how committed you are to me and our baby."

Lexie gives him a small smile, shifting a bit closer towards her husband. "You do?"

Mark nods seriously. "Nothing has ever been more clear to me."

Lexie's smile widens to a grin, and a moment later she takes his hand. She squeezes it briefly before placing it on the crest of her stomach. "A month," she whispers, looking happily into his eyes. "We just have one month left."

Mark smiles, slipping his hand beneath her tank top and caressing the soft skin of her distended belly gently. "Then we'll get to see our little girl," he murmurs. "After all this time, we'll finally get to see her."

Lexie beams, leaning forward to kiss him. "I can't wait," she whispers happily, feeling his mouth curve into a smile against hers. "I really can't."

"Me neither."

. . .

_December_

_. . ._

"Mark," Lexie whispers. Her hand grips the kitchen counter, her knuckles going white as she says his name again. Her other hand immediately moves to rest on the crest of her stomach.

"Yeah?" Her husband calls from the couch. "What is it, Lex?"

"Mark, turn—turn off the TV."

"Gimme a sec, Lex. I'm in the middle of—"

"I—" She grits her teeth against the momentary pain. "I have to go to the hospital."

"What?" He half-laughs, turning his head to catch a glimpse of her. "You can't go into surgery—"

"Mark," she whispers urgently, finding his eyes on the other side of the apartment. "Mark, the baby—"

He crosses the room faster than she would have imagined, taking her hand and moving her to the closest chair just a few feet away. He returns a moment later, holding a small duffle bag in one hand and his car keys in the other. "Come on," he whispers, helping her back to her feet and guiding her to the door. "We'll go down to the lobby; you can wait there while I get the car."

. . .

_Author's Note: Eek! Baby coming! :) What did you guys think of the chapter? **Please leave me a review! **I'lltry to update soon :)_


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36:**

Author's Note: I wrote part of this chapter while Teddy and Henry were dating. Therefore, there is a mention to him being alive and well in one of these scenes. Let us all pretend, please, because I refuse to cut him out of the story the way Shonda did. Enjoy:

. . .

_Annabelle Susan Sloan_

_Born December 2nd, at 12:43 PM_

_18.6 inches, 5.72 pounds, at 36 weeks_

_. . ._

"A baby," Lexie whispers in awe, holding what she knows Arizona would call a 'tiny human' in her arms. "We made a baby." She looks up at her husband, an uncontrollable grin spreading over her face. "Us two made a baby."

"That we did," Mark replies, sneaking into bed beside her. "She's beautiful." He grins down at his daughter. "We are incredibly talented, you and I. Look at her."

"She's perfect."

Mark tilts his head, staring down into his daughter's pale face. "She…doesn't quite _look_ like either of us, though, does she?"

"It'll come," Lexie replies without worry.. "Just wait till the baby fat fades a bit." She touches her daughter's doughy cheek. "I'm sure she'll end up having your nose or ears or something."

"And she'll have your chin or mouth or hair."

Lexie bends closer to their daughter, a smile spreading over her face. "She sort of has your eyes, though." She looks up, alternating glances between her husband and their offspring's pupils. "They're blue like yours."

"A bit," Mark replies, studying them as well. "But hers are darker."

"She's so pretty," Lexie whispers, leaning her head against Mark's arm. She feels his chest expand and contract slowly as he takes a deep breath.

"She's beautiful," he repeats after a moment, bending towards her and kissing the top of his wife's head. "Just like you."

. . .

_3 PM_

_. . ._

"Everyone alright in here?" Derek asks, knocking on the door. "Little Grey, are you decent?"

"I'm decent, Derek," Lexie laughs. "You can come in."

"Laughing already?" He asks with a grin, pushing the door open. "Things must have gone well," he comments. "Tell me, does the baby have all its fingers and toes?"

"Yes, of course," Lexie replies.

He comes to a stop at the foot of her bed with a wide smile. "How are you?" He asks quietly, serious now.

"I'm great," Lexie smiles. She glances to her husband, sitting in the chair beside her. He hadn't looked up when Derek walked in, nor when she'd looked over to him. His eyes were on his daughter, and Lexie couldn't have been happier at his preoccupation. "We both are."

"And where is the little guest of honor?"

"Right here," Lexie replies as Derek approaches her bedside to stand beside the couple. "She's asleep," Lesxie warns, holding out her arms towards her brother-in-law.

Derek glances at her. "You sure? You want me to…?"

"Take her," Lexie urges him, reaching further to deposit her daughter safely in her uncle's arms. "I know you won't drop her or anything."

"Yeah, and if you do, I'll kill you," Mark replies, finally acknowledging their visitor.

Derek glances to Lexie with an amused smile. "Don't you love this protective side of him?" He asks, nodding toward Mark. "It makes him so relaxed and easy to live with."

Lexie laughs. "Right. This is only half of it. I've been living under strict orders for the past month that I'm _not to move, _lest something—god forbid—happen to the baby."

"Mock me all you want," Mark replies, "but you know you love it that I'm concerned about your well-being."

Lexie smiles indulgently at him. "I do."

"You named her Annabelle, right?" Derek asks, staring into the little girl's sleeping face.

"Yes," Lexie replies.

"That's a pretty name." He glances to his sister-in-law. "You pick it?"

"No," Lexie smiles. "Mark did, actually."

Derek turns around to look at his best friend as he rocks their baby in his arms. "You?" He asks pointedly. His shock rings clear through the tone of his voice. "_You?_" He repeats. "Really?"

"What?" Mark replies, crossing his arms. "I can't come up with good names for my own daughter?"

"I just wouldn't have thought…" Derek trails off, smiling at his best friend.

"Well, you are just constantly underestimating me, aren't you, Shepherd," Mark smirks. "Let this be a lesson to you."

"Oh, _god_," Derek notes, unable to hide a grin, "I'm taking life lessons from Mark Sloan. I would have bet my life just a day ago that _that _never would be happening."

Mark laughs, about to reply, but Lexie beats him to it.

"Speaking of bets," she cuts in hurriedly, directing her words at the neurosurgeon expertly cradling her daughter. "You didn't bet about this, did you?"

"Bet?" Derek repeats, stares at his sister-in-law blankly. "Bet about what? What are you talking about?"

Lexie smiles in relief, chuckling softly at his confused expression. "Nothing," she replies. "It's just—when Mark and I got married, you and Meredith had a bet…"

"Oh, that," Derek replies, a grin spreading over his face. "Nah, we didn't this time. Damn," he mutters with a chuckle as the door opens behind him. "That would have been a good one."

"Knock-knock," Arizona says, mimicking the light tap of her fist on the wood of the door as she pokes her head in. Callie's face appears a moment later, looking over her wife's shoulder. Arizona glances from Lexie to Derek, smiling at the baby in his arms. "Are we interrupting?"

"Not at all," Lexie replies, waving them inside.

"I actually have to run to surgery," Derek replies, checking his watch. He walks back to Lexie's bedside, depositing the newborn carefully back into her arms. "Congratulations, Little Grey," he says with a soft smile.

"Thanks, Derek," Lexie replies.

"Meredith had to leave to pick Zola up from school, but she'll probably be back soon and stop by, if that's okay?"

"I'll look forward to it," Lexie calls, just before her brother-in-law disappears out into the hallway. The door has just barely closed behind him when Derek feels an arm link itself through his and a familiar voice speaking beside him.

"I want my hundred dollars back," Meredith mutters in his ear.

"I thought you were picking up Zola," Derek replies, ignoring her greeting, and keeping his voice just as low as he walks towards the elevators.

"I did," Meredith replies as the elevator arrives. "And then I dropped her off at a friend's, liked she asked me to this morning."

"I don't remember her asking me," Derek replies.

"You can't remember one minute to the next," Meredith smirks. She pulls away from him when the elevator door close, holding out her hand and leveling him with a serious stare. "Now quit stalling and pay up." She grins at her husband's disgruntled sigh.

"Fine," he mutters, digging into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He reluctantly passes her the bill that had been tucked in the back of his wallet for the last year. Meredith grins, snapping the crisp paper between her fingers and holding it up to the light.

"Vengeance is sweet," she grins, turning to meet her husband's eyes. "I knew it would be a girl."

"Yeah, whatever," Derek mutters, looking away as Meredith laughs, lifting the bill to the light again just to screw with him.

"Don't flash it around those two," he warns. "They're under the impression we were only eagerly awaiting the baby for sentimental reasons."

Meredith laughs as the elevator _bings_. "Don't they know that one of us always has an ulterior motive?"

Derek grins, stepping off. "You would think they would have learned that by now, wouldn't you?" He glances over to his wife as he heads to the OR. "You gonna stay and watch?"

"Maybe for a half-hour or so," Meredith replies, putting the money in her pocket.

He nods, stopping right outside the scrub room and turning to her. "Go visit Lexie when you leave, then. I told her you'd stop by."

"I will." Meredith grins. "Now that I'll be able to fully appreciate my winnings."

Derek just rolls his eyes, turning and heading into the scrub room without another word while Meredith smiles to herself and makes her way to the gallery.

. . .

"So how are you?" Arizona asks with an eager smile, coming to a stop at the foot of her colleague's bed and looking the other woman over closely. "Did everything go okay?"

"It went fine." Lexie smiles. "As Derek would put it, she has all her fingers and toes."

"That was nice of him," Callie mutters with an eye roll, moving to stand beside her wife.

Lexie laughs quietly, tilting her daughter in her arms so the two women can see her from the foot of the bed. She motions for them to come closer, an easy smile on her face. "Here, you guys can have a look."

Arizona and Callie shuffle forward slowly, craning their necks to get a glimpse of the baby. "Oh, wow…" the blonde trails off, staring down at the little girl once they're close enough to see her.

"She's beautiful, Lexie," Callie says softly, smiling at the child in her friend's arms.

"Thank you," the brunette replies quietly. She glances to the side, catching her husband's eye with a small smile.

"Do you know how long you're taking off?" Arizona asks when she looks back up to meet her coworker's eyes.

"_Arizona_," Callie snaps, elbowing her.

"What?" The blonde replies, turning to her wife for explanation.

"She just gave birth," Mark answers from his spot a few feet from Lexie's bedside before Callie can. "Robbins, come on. Give her some room to breathe."

"It was an innocent question," Arizona tells him.

He smirks, shaking his head. "_Sure _it was, boss."

Lexie shakes her head. "Ignore him, please."

"Oh, is that what you do?" Arizona chuckles.

Lexie chuckles, grinning, as if to say, _You have no idea._ "I'll probably be back by the middle of January," she replies. Arizona nods seriously before bending towards her.

"You know," she informs the new mother quietly, "you can weasel a lot more than six weeks out of me."

Lexie grins. "Thanks, Dr. Robbins, but I think I'll be okay."

"I'd take her up on it if I were you," Mark notes casually from beside her.

"Seconded," Callie adds, stepping to his side. "Six weeks?" She repeats when Lexie looks at her for explanation. The Latina grins, nodding at the baby in her arms. "You'll want more than six weeks with her, won't you?"

Lexie smiles back, but shakes her head nonetheless. "Like I said," she replies, turning back to her boss, "I'll be back by mid-January."

"Okay, fine," Arizona replies, knowing when to give up. "But when the time rolls around," she adds seriously, "just give me a call and I'll speak with the Chief about giving you a few more weeks' leave."

"I will, don't worry," Lexie smiles. "But don't wait by the phone."

"You sure married a stubborn one," Callie notes in an undertone, nudging her friend with an amused smile.

Mark grins, only half-listening to Arizona as she launches into some ridiculous story about one of her patients. Instead, he watches his wife, who's holding their daughter close all the while, glancing down every few seconds, and looking back up with a smile on her face. "What can I say?" He mutters finally, his warm blue eyes flicking to Callie's. "I like a challenge."

. . .

_4 PM_

. . .

"Tired?" Mark asks a half-hour later, sneaking into bed beside his wife.

"So tired," Lexie murmurs back, squirming until her body rests comfortably against his.

"I can take her," he offers, reaching for the swaddled child lying in her fatigued arms.

"No, no, I've got her."

"Let me take her," Mark replies, slipping the baby out of her arms against her light protests. "Sh," he murmurs to his wife and child. "Go to sleep."

"You've stolen my firstborn," Lexie mutters, already half-asleep. "Right out of my arms."

"I'll give her back," Mark smiles. "Plus, she's barely two inches from you." Lexie smiles at this. "A fact that, I'm sure, you will come to regret when she starts howling," Mark adds when he sees the look on her face.

"She doesn't howl," Lexie replies, her eyes falling closed.

"Oh, sorry, that was you screaming before?"

"Quiet, you," Lexie mutters through a yawn.

"Sleep, love," is his only reply.

. . .

_4.30 PM_

_. . ._

"Crap," Mark mutters, cringing when a sharp cry pierces the silence of the room. "Hey, Annabelle," he murmurs to the child in his arms. "Be quiet, okay? Shh." He sighs shortly when his words prove to have no effect, quickly climbing out of the bed and heading to the door. He glances over his shoulder as he opens the door, relieved to see that Lexie hadn't woken up yet. Just as he's shutting the door behind him and turning out into the hallway, he almost runs right into his sister-in-law.

"Hey, Mer," Mark says with relief.

"Hey," Meredith smiles. "How are you? What's up?"

"I'm good." He glances down at his still-sobbing daughter. "She started crying, though, so I wanted to get her away from Lexie before she got woken up. Could you…?" He glances back towards the exam room.

"Oh, yeah," Meredith replies immediately, already stepping toward the door. "Of course."

"You're sure?" Mark asks, surprised by her automatic answer.

"Mark," Meredith smiles, "I have literally _nothing_ to do today. I'm all yours." She nods to the small child. "I can take her, you know, if you want to sleep. I'm sure you're exhausted, too."

"No, no," Mark shakes his head and holds back a yawn at her reference to sleep. "I'm fine. Just, uh, could you watch Lexie till the baby calms down a bit?"

"Sure."

"Thank you, Mer," he replies, already walking away.

"Hey, Mark," Meredith calls before he can get too far.

"Yeah?"

"Congratulations," she smiles.

"Thanks, Big Grey," Mark grins back. He turns back to his daughter a second later as she lets out another boisterous scream. "I'll see you later," he calls to his sister-in-law before hurrying down the hallway.

"Hey, Belle," he whispers as he heads to the elevators. "Stop crying, little girl. It's okay. You're alright, I promise. Things are fine." She cries again, a high-pitched screech this time, and Mark sighs in relief when the elevator door close around him. He's sure he was only seconds away from receiving angry glares and half-hearing disgruntled mutterings. Wanting to avoid that for as long as possible, he hits the button for the sixth floor, and attempts to quiet Annabelle's screams as the lift travels upwards. She's still crying when the doors open, though, so he goes to one of the only semi-soundproof places he can find.

. . .

"So, Belle," Mark begins over her screams a minute later. "I am going to show you something very interesting today." He climbs the stairs, pulling open the door with one hand. He walks to the window of the small room, looking down on the crowded space beneath them. "You see that little boy there?" He asks, pointing to the infant in the middle of the room. "He's got Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, which is a very serious medical condition. It means that the left side of that little boy's heart isn't working right. He can't get any blood into it, and if Dr. Hubbard down there and Dr. Altman and all the others aren't able to fix it in time, he might not live." He glances down at her crying face. "But I'm sure he will," he assures her quickly, as if she knew what he was saying and understood the concept of death. "Wendy and Teddy are very good at their jobs and they'll make sure that little boy gets back to his parents. He'll be fine."

He smiles down at his daughter, moving to lighter tone. "Aren't we glad you didn't have that, huh? I'm sure either your mother or I would've had a heart attack, and then we'd need to have _two _heart surgeries." Annabelle hiccups through her tears suddenly and her father pauses. "Surgery, huh?" Mark grins. "You like that word? _Sur-ger-y. _That's when you cut people open to see what's wrong with them so you can fix it. That's what your mom and I do for a living, you know. We're surgeons. _Sur-geons,_" he enunciates. "Your mom works with little kids. Just like you, hm? Just like you. She fixes all their problems and cures all their illnesses and then they're back to their parents, good as new."

He tilts her in his arms, letting her head rest on his right bicep. "Want to know what I do?" He smiles. "Oh, of course you do. Well, _I_ get to work on a whole range of people. Mostly the people I see are adults, but sometimes I get teenagers and kids, too." He smiles down at her. "I've worked on little babies like you, as well, you know. Little tiny babies with little tiny arms. Can you believe that? I put a baby's arm back on." He reaches under the blanket she's swaddled in, squeezing her arm very gently. "Right back on after it came off. Just a little sewing—" he mimics using a needle "—and it was as good as new. Just like nothing had ever happened." He glances down at her, a slightly worried look in his eyes. "You know, I hope I never have to see _you_ in an operating room, little girl," he murmurs, sitting down in one of the chairs for viewers. "I don't know what I'd do." He tilts his head to the side.

"Well, that's a lie," he admits a second later. "I do know what I'd do. And what I'd _do_," he smiles down at her, "is insist on being in the room. No one's operating on my kid without _me_ being there. And your mother, obviously," he adds. "Though I'd probably have to get security to hold her back, I doubt she'd let anyone but herself operate on you. But between me and you—" he bends down to look his daughter in the eyes "—I wouldn't want her performing surgery on you. It'd be too dangerous. So, I suppose… we'd watch. We'd attempt to stand out of the way while yelling instructions. And then Richard would kick us out. As is his right," Mark adds. "And then we'd sit up here, right where you and I are right now, and we'd watch through this big glass window. And we'd wait. And we'd hope and pray and wish that you'd come out fine… But in the end, we wouldn't have to bother, would we? Because you're never getting hurt and you're never going into surgery and you're going to stay perfect and tiny forever." He picks her up, holding her in front of him with a wide smile. "Aren't you, little girl? Huh?"

"Sloan, is this really appropriate entertainment for your newborn?"

Mark looks around his daughter, setting her in his lap and chuckling softly when he sees Teddy Altman glaring up at him. He can see a smile hidden beneath her scrub mask, though, so he knows she isn't angry. He walks over to the intercom, pressing it.

"Who said it was entertainment?" He asks into the speaker. "I'm teaching this kid the facts of life." He pauses, grinning down at the cardiothoracic surgeon. "And since when do you know anything about raising kids?"

"Oh, excuse me?" Teddy questions, her eyebrows raised. "Was that a _hint_, Mark?"

He shrugs. "I'm just sayin', Altman… You're the only one of us left who doesn't have kids." A smirk spreads over his face. "You better get on that Henry of yours and hurry it up already."

"_Right_," Teddy laughs, stripping off her gloves and her scrub mask. "I'll get on childbirth just as soon as Hell freezes over."

He grins before nodding towards the gurney that the orderlies are now wheeling out of the operating room. "Hey, is the patient alright?"

Teddy nods. "He'll be fine. The surgery was a success."

"Congratulations. That's, what, the most complicated heart surgery in the book?"

"Thanks," Teddy grins. "And _yes,_ it is."

"Well, if the show's over, I'll be going." He glances down at Annabelle, who's finally stopped crying. All that's left on her face are half-dried tear-tracks, which Mark quickly brushes away with his fingers.

"Hey," Teddy calls. "Before you go—"

"Yeah?"

"Congratulations to you, too."

"Thanks, Altman."

"And pass it on to your wife, as well."

Mark smiles. "I will."

. . .

Lexie Grey Sloan blinks awake, surprised to find herself alone in her hospital bed. She quickly finds that she isn't quite alone in her room, though, as her eyes fall on Meredith, who is sitting beside her bed in one of those hard hospital chairs. "Mer?" Lexie asks groggily.

"Hey," Meredith smiles. She gets up, passing her sister a cup of water. "How you doing?"

"I'm fine." She sips the water as Meredith returns to her seat. "I take it someone's made off with my baby?"

Meredith smiles, canting her head towards the door. "I think Mark's walking around with her. She was crying before."

"She was?" Lexie's eyebrows pull together worriedly. "I didn't wake up. I should have woken up. Right? I'm her mother. I should know if she's upset."

Meredith shakes her head. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll wish for the day you didn't wake up to an infant crying in a week or two. And anyway, Mark got her out of here pretty quick. He wanted you to rest."

"That's apparently all I'm good for," Lexie grumbles.

"Your body has just been through a trauma, Lexie," Meredith informs her patiently. "Is it really so bad that he wants you to take it easy?"

"Trauma?" Lexie asks with a laugh.

"Childbirth is plenty traumatic," Meredith chides.

"Yeah," Lexie agrees. "That bit did suck."

"'That bit?'" Meredith quotes with a laugh. "Your labor lasted over half a day."

Lexie waves a hand. "It's already left my mind."

"Oh, how quickly the infants take over," Meredith muses.

"Right, like you didn't fall head-over-heels for Zola when you brought her home," Lexie smiles. "I saw that nursery, you nesting freak. You must've spent months on it."

Meredith opens her mouth to reply, but before she can, they're interrupted by the door opening and Mark walking back in. "Hey," he says. "You're up."

"Oh, yeah. Just for a few minutes though." She nods, unable to hide a smile, to the baby in his arms. "I see you've been showing her off."

"Just up and down the halls," Mark replies with a matching smile. "She was crying and I didn't want her to wake you."

Lexie smiles warmly at him, tearing her eyes away as she sees her sister stand up in her periphery. "Mer?"

"I better go," she excuses herself. "I should find out how Derek's surgery is going."

"Oh, right. Wish him luck for me."

"Sure," Meredith replies. She stops beside Mark, bending down to get a look at the newborn. "Bye-bye, Annie," Meredith coos at her goddaughter. She wiggles her fingers in a tiny wave. "Bye-bye, little girl."

"See ya, Mer," Lexie calls as she walks out the door.

"So," Lexie says after the door closes, turning to her husband.

"So," Mark replies, adjusting his hold on his daughter in his arms without looking up from her face.

"Mark?" Lexie calls, smiling at his preoccupation.

"Hm?" He murmurs, his eyes still fixated on his daughter.

"I'm here, too," Lexie calls, waving a hand.

He furrows his eyebrows, leaning closer to his baby. "You hear something, Belle?"

"Very funny," Lexie mutters. Mark chuckles at the annoyance in her voice, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "Come over here," she tells him.

He walks slowly to her side, resting against the edge of the bed and cradling their daughter between them. Lexie sighs softly, leaning her head against his back as she stares down at her newborn.

"How did you get her to stop crying?" She asks softly a moment later, after basking in the silence of the small room.

"What?" Mark murmurs. "Oh, I talked to her."

Lexie wrinkles her nose against the back of his shirt. "Baby talk?" She asks sourly.

"No, I just kind of… lectured, I guess. I took her into an empty gallery where she wouldn't bother anyone else and told her what was happening in the OR."

"She saw surgery?" Lexie replies, awed at the idea. Mark turns his head, grinning at her.

"She saw surgery," he confirms proudly. "And learned about Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome."

Lexie grins. "Starting big, I see."

"Only the best for this little girl," Mark smiles. "Teddy says congratulations, by the way."

"She talked to you? What about the surgery?"

"Oh, we came in late. They were done within a half-hour of us arriving."

"Was it successful?"

"Yup."

"Good." Lexie sighs happily a moment later, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I love you for doing that, you know," she whispers softly.

"What, getting her to stop crying?" He shrugs. "It was no big deal."

"No, I mean…" Lexie grins. "Taking her to the gallery. Mark, that was brilliant."

"I took her to the quietest place I could find," he excuses.

"Yeah, why wasn't anyone in that gallery, by the way? I thought someone would've kicked you out if she was that loud."

"Oh," Mark replies. "Well, there _might've_ been a sign that said the gallery was closed for that particular time slot. But, as you know, I have selective eyesight."

Lexie chuckles knowingly. "Yeah, you only see what you want to see."

He smiles at her. "So I'm seeing twenty-twenty right now, aren't I?"

Lexie shakes her head with a happy smile, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. "I love you," she whispers softly.

. . .

_Author's Note: Please leave me a review! The next chapter will be the last. We've come so far, everyone! :')_


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37: Epilogue**

_Personal Note:_ How awesome is it that after I _finally _finished editing this mammoth chapter, I get accepted to my (sort-of) first-choice college? XD Plus, I just printed out tickets to see _The Hunger Games _in IMAX, as well as at midnight at our local theater! Okay, ignore my all-around-squee-ing about life and please enjoy the story!

_Author's Note:_ This chapter is incredibly long, and it is what I consider to be the **final** epilogue. If you love lengthy chapters, rejoice! If you hate them… Well, I am very sorry for this one, but I just didn't have the heart to break it up it into multiple chapters. If you don't have the time to sit down and read it all at once, though, that's okay—it's split into a bunch of sections, so there are plenty of places where you can stop and come back to it.

Anyway, I hope you manage to enjoy it after all! Thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter :)

. . .

_Infancy_

_. . ._

"Can we just sit here a moment?" Lexie asks softly, resting the crown of her head against her husband's neck as they recline tiredly against the couch in their apartment. "All three of us, together?"

"Of course," Mark replies, wrapping an arm around her and lifting his feet onto the ottoman in front of them. "I don't have anywhere to be."

Lexie closes her eyes, tilting her face towards his body and breathing in his scent. When she opens her eyes, a pair of dark-blue ones look up at her, wide and curious. Lexie smiles down at her daughter in her husband's arms.

"Hi, sweetie," Lexie murmurs lovingly. "Hi, baby girl." Lexie exhales softly, watching her daughter squirm slightly at the air passes by her face. "Oh, Mark, did you see that? She's _adorable_. Her face is so…" Lexie trails off, and her voice falls to a whisper when she realizes her husband has fallen asleep beside her. Lexie kisses his jaw softly, transferring Belle from his arms to hers. She cradles her daughter close, pressing a kiss to the fuzzy faint wisps of hair on her head, much like the fuzz of the skins of peaches.

"You are a peach, aren't you?" Lexie whispers, smiling at the odd endearment that came to mind. She brushes a hand against her daughter's head. "You're my tiny little peach." She yawns widely, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she leans against her husband. "Look at you," she murmurs, watching her daughter through half-closed eyes. "Pretty little Belle…"

. . .

"Lex. Lexie, hey. Wake up. C'mon, Lex, wake up."

"Hrmpf." Lexie scrunches her face, twisting away from her husband's voice.

"You fell asleep," Mark informs her.

"So did you," Lexie replies, blinking her eyes open slowly to see Mark standing before her. He's holding a sleeping Annabelle in one arm, and his other is extended towards her.

"I know," he half-smiles. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Lexie takes his hand, rising to her feet. She wraps an arm around his waist, staring down at their sleeping child cradled in her husband's arms. "She's lovely."

"She is."

Lexie reaches out to touch her but quickly draws back, thinking better of disturbing the peace of her slumber. She lets her hand fall to her side.

"We should let her sleep," Mark agrees, noting her hesitance to wake up their baby. Lexie nods, letting go of his waist and heading towards the crib they placed outside their bedroom door after not being able to fit it in the room. They stop just a few inches from the crib, staring at it.

"I… I don't want to leave her out here, Mark," Lexie whispers softly. She bites her lip, glancing over at her husband and seeing him shake his head.

"Me neither," he agrees.

"Can she sleep with us?" Lexie asks, resting her head on her husband's shoulder. Mark smiles softly, kissing the top of his wife's head softly.

"I think that would be a good idea," he replies, wrapping an arm around her waist and walking into their bedroom. They stand at the foot of their bed, staring down at their daughter together in silence. "We should change," Mark points out after a couple seconds. Lexie nods, watching as he lays Annabelle down gently in the middle of the bed, feet away from any of the four edges. Mark and Lexie slip out of their clothes quickly, constantly glancing over their shoulders to check on their daughter. Each time they look, she's still sleeping peacefully on the sheets where they left her, not having moved an inch.

. . .

"She's perfect," Lexie whispers, cradling her daughter while she lies curled against her husband. "God, she's so perfect."

Mark kisses his wife's shoulder gently, pressing his lips against her warm skin. He feels her shoulders shudder, and when he looks up, she's taking a shaky breath and there are tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. "Lexie," he whispers softly, his voice hushed with shocked concern.

She shakes her head immediately, and the action dislodges even more tears from her eyes. "Don't worry," she replies hoarsely. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound too fine," Mark points out quietly, kissing her skin one more time before pulling back to look his wife in the eye.

"I just…" Lexie inhales carefully, trying to find the right words as she stares down at the peacefully sleeping child in her arms. "I just can't believe this is real. I really… I really can't believe it."

"It's real," he assures her quietly, reaching over to rub her shoulder in soft comfort.

"I have a daughter," she sniffs. "_We_—you and me—_we _have a daughter. Together."

"We do."

"I…" She breaks off, turning her head and suddenly crushing her lips to his. Mark starts slightly at the surprising force behind the kiss, but returns it nonetheless. His hands reach up, holding the soft skin of her wet cheeks in his hands while hers cradle their sleeping daughter carefully. Lexie takes a deep breath when their lips separate. "You remember when I asked you to marry me?" She whispers, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against his.

"I do," Mark replies. Lexie's lips flick upward briefly at his word choice, wondering if it was intentional or not, but she brushes away the thought quickly. When she speaks, her voice is solemn.

"I told you my life was overwhelming," she says quietly. "I said that that day, and at the time, I meant it… But now… This…" Lexie bites her lip, struggling to hold back her emotion. "_This _is overwhelming. And I—I don't mean in a bad way," she adds before he can worry. "I mean it in a good way, I've always meant it in a good way, and I've—I've realized recently that my life is…" She shakes her head against his, finally opening her eyes to his piercing and curious blue gaze. "My life is just overwhelming." She shrugs, and a second later, a brilliant smile blooms on her face. "That's just what it is, and I'm okay with that. I'm okay with that because this—" she pauses to look her husband in the eye "—this life I have with you, and this life I have with our daughter—is _so _worth it. It's worth everything."

Mark smiles, his loving eyes blinking at her slowly. He reaches out, placing his hand on the back of her neck and guiding her lips to his gently. "I'm grateful you think I'm worth it," he murmurs as their lips separate a few seconds later.

"It's not just you, remember," Lexie smiles, opening her eyes as their lips part reluctantly. "It's this little one, too." She hefts her daughter softly up into her arms, holding her up so they can both see her.

"You're right," Mark whispers, his voice breaking the silence a few seconds later as he stares down at their daughter with quiet awe. "She's utterly perfect."

Lexie smiles, tiredly resting her head against her husband's shoulder. "I'm glad we agree on this," she murmurs through a yawn. "It's a rather important issue."

Mark smirks, absentmindedly shifting nearer to his wife. "Who would disagree?"

Lexie chuckles softly, suddenly too tired to formulate a full response. Mark turns his head towards her, pressing his lips against her head for a couple seconds before pulling away with a quiet sigh. He leans his cheek against her hair, stares down at his daughter, and holds the two most important people in his life as closely as he can. "Go to sleep," he whispers.

. . .

_Age Two_

. . .

Lexie GreySloan is wringing her hands as she walks from her daughter's crib, situated in a darkened corner of the apartment, towards the kitchen. She calls her husband's name softly as she steps into the room. Mark glances up from the counter he's wiping, straightening up when he catches her serious gaze.

"I don't want to move," she states, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you keep saying we have to, but…" She shakes her head. "Mark, I don't want to move. I really don't want to move."

Mark Sloan sighs, stepping back from the counter and taking a breath as he walks around the island to his wife's side. He stares at her for a quiet minute, watching as her worried eyes roam over the apartment that's been truly _theirs _for the past four years.

"I know you don't want to," he begins quietly, placing a supporting hand on her lower back gently. "I don't want to, either." He sighs softly, and his hand drops as he moves to stand in front of her and hold her attention. "But, Lex, we _have_ to," he reminds her seriously. "All three of us can't fit in here, not with Anna getting bigger every second."

"We could try," Lexie excuses weakly, knowing her argument makes no sense. "We could—"

"We have tried," Mark interrupts quietly. "We have tried and it isn't working anymore. We don't have an extra room; we barely enough space for a crib now, let alone a bed when she gets big enough for that." He sighs, knowing how much it hurts her to hear this. "We can't live here any longer, Lex. I know you don't want to admit it, but we both know it's the truth. We can't live here anymore."

"But I…" Lexie closes her eyes, tilting her head down. "I don't want to leave," she murmurs quietly. "Mark, I don't want to live anywhere else."

"I know, love," he whispers. He pulls her into a hug, sighing softly when he feels her wrap her arms around him tightly. He knows exactly what this apartment means to her—and what leaving it will mean—because it means the same thing to him. It's the place that holds all their memories, good and bad. It's the place where they began anew. It's _their _place. "I know," he continues a moment later, "but like I said, we can't live here anymore. We've gotta find a house. Unless you want our daughter to grow up in a cramped apartment, sleeping on a couch until she's eighteen, Lex, we've gotta find a new place to live. A place where we can…raise her properly," he finishes softly.

Mark pulls away slowly, and as he does so, Lexie's eyes return to his, hurt and worried.

"But our life is here," she whispers sadly. "Mark, our whole _life_ is _here_. Right here."

"I know," he replies quietly. Even through her sorrow, she can hear the heartbroken tinge to his words too, and she knows he's feeling just the way she is.

"It's—it's always been here," she continues. "_We've_ always been here, Mark. Always."

"I know that."

"This—this is my home," she sniffs, biting her lip hard as she stares at him. "I—I can't leave it behind. This is my only home."

"We can find another home," he points out softly. "Now that it's me and you and Anna, we can find a place. We can do it. We can make our own home."

"I know we _can_, but I just… I don't… Mark," she whispers plaintively. "Mark, I don't _want_ to. This—this apartment is our place. We've—we've always been us here, and Anna—Mark, this is her home. We can't just up and move her."

"Lexie…" Mark murmurs softly. "She's a baby, honey. She's two. She won't even remember this place if we move now."

"But this—this is the place I came home to," Lexie whispers, feeling her eyes prick and her throat tighten painfully. Nonetheless, she continues. "This—this is where we decided to marry each other and have children and—and spend the rest of our lives together. Mark, this is where we made our _baby_. This place is us. We can't—" she breaks off, sniffing as the tears fall "—we can't just leave our home behind," she finishes, her voice barely audible. "We can't do that to ourselves."

"What…" Mark clears his throat, moving closer. "Lex, what do you think is going to happen?" He asks quietly. "Do you think if we move, we'll forget?" He inquires softly. "Do you think if we aren't looking at these walls everyday, we'll forget everything that happened between of all four of them, between us?"

"I don't know," Lexie mutters dejectedly, avoiding his eye and looking down at the floor.

"Do you think I won't remember every time I stayed up in the dead of night, waiting for you to show up?" He presses in a hushed voice. "Do you think I'll forget that horrible rush of relief I felt every time you walked through that door, or the pain I felt every time you left? Do you think I won't remember when you promised you'd leave him for me or when you asked me to marry you? Or the day we started trying to make our family? Lex, baby," he murmurs, using a few fingers to tilt her head upwards to meet his worried eyes. "Do you really think I'll forget all that? Do you think _you'll_ forget?"

"I…" Lexie sniffs, biting hard on the inside of her lip while she searches for the words. "I just don't want us to take anything for granted," she whispers finally, ignoring the tears pricking at her eyes. "If we leave—yes, what if we forget? What if we get lost in how—how perfect our life is now and we forget…" Lexie shakes her head sadly. "Mark, I love you more than anything, and Anna too; you know that, but… I won't dare take you two for granted. That isn't something I can allow myself to do. And if we leave… Yes, what if we forget?"

It's a long moment before Mark nods slowly. In reply, Lexie lets out the worried breath she'd been holding all the while.

"I get that," he begins softly. "I understand that, but… Lex, just because we move, that does not mean we're bound to forget the past." He gives her a sad smile. "I know we said we were done with it, but if I'm being honest, Little Grey, you should know that I'm never going to forget."

Lexie sucks in a sharp breath, turning away. "Oh, Mark," she whispers, brokenhearted. "I—"

"That's not a bad thing," he interrupts quickly, trying to smooth things over. "Remembering isn't bad, it's just—a reminder." He stares at her until she turns back to look him in the eyes. "It's a reminder of how far we've come, how much we've accomplished together. What we've been through."

The far corner of her mouth flickers in a weak half-smile. "How much we love each other?" She questions softly.

His returning smile is filled with soft encouragement. "Exactly," he replies. "So," he adds a moment later, "if I'm not going to forget, and you're not going to take anything for granted…" He reaches out, stroking her cheek gently. "Lex, I think that's a good balance to keep us grounded."

Lexie's lips spread in a genuine smile a second later, for she's overjoyed that he understands, right before she leans forward to kiss him. "Friday," she whispers against his lips, just before pulling away.

"Hm?" Mark asks, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "What about Friday?"

Lexie smiles, reaching up to hold his face in her hands. "I have Friday off," she murmurs, meeting his icy-blue eyes with her warm brown ones. "Why don't we start looking for houses then?" She asks, unable to hide a smile at the happiness that blooms on his face at the mention.

. . .

_Three_

. . .

"So you think we're done?" Mark asks, meeting his wife in the back doorway of their home, which resides just a few miles outside of the city. Lexie shrugs in response as she leans against the doorframe, her attention fixed on their daughter playing in the backyard with a few friends.

"Belle's three," she says, turning her head to look at her husband. He's leaning against the opposite doorframe, his arms folded over his chest. "What do you think?" She asks, eyeing him. "Do you want another?"

"Only if you do," he replies softly, his gaze flickering between his wife and his daughter.

"You know," Lexie murmurs, reaching out into the warm spring air to take his hand. His arms uncross automatically; his left hand drops to his side but his right stays enclosed within hers, bridging the small gap between them. "I think I'm going to be just fine with what I've got right here," Lexie finishes a moment later.

Mark smiles at her, squeezing her fingers. "It's decided, then," he replies, pushing off from the door and stepping towards her.

"But—you're sure?" Lexie asks, looking worriedly up at him. He watches as her eyes fly to the children playing in the yard before returning to his face. "Do you want another baby? Because we can—"

"Lex," Mark interrupts patiently. "Honestly, I am fine either way."

"So—you're alright with just us two?"

Mark smiles at the worried hesitation in her voice, squeezing her head and dipping his head to let their lips meet briefly. "I'm more than alright with just you two."

. . .

_Four_

_. . ._

"Anna's asleep."

Mark Sloan looks up at the soft whisper, and his eyes immediately zero in on his wife, who's walking towards him from the hallway. He can see quiet excitement light up her eyes, and he can't help but smile as he meets her halfway. Coming to standstill at the corner of two hallways, Mark glances over Lexie's shoulder to inspect their daughter's closed bedroom door.

"She's asleep?" He questions cautiously, as if the quietest whisper from yards away would wake her up. His eyes linger on Annabelle's bedroom door for a few seconds before flickering back to his wife's dark gaze. "You're sure?"

Lexie nods, checking over her shoulder as well for the briefest moment. "I just put her to bed; she's out like a light." An excited smile had begun spreading across the brunette's face even before she finished speaking. She grabs Mark's hand and heads down an adjacent hallway away from their daughter's room. "Come with me," Lexie grins over her shoulder, tugging her husband along behind her. She can hear him chuckle quietly at the determination written all over her face.

"Impatient?" He questions a minute later as she grabs fistfuls of his t-shirt and he closes the door softly behind them. Lexie simply kisses him deeply in response, her hands pulling his body flush against hers as his wrap around her slim waist. Their mouths open a few seconds later, letting their tongues meet and fuse together as they pull each other nearer. When the kiss breaks after a few minutes and their lips part reluctantly, Lexie leans her forehead against his.

"I thought she'd never go to sleep," she sighs in happy relief. "I've been waiting all day to do that." Mark smiles, stepping closer and dipping his lips to hers again.

"Me too," he murmurs against her lips. He can feel her arms wrap tightly around him and her lips spread into a wide grin as he kisses them.

Two minutes later, Lexie is falling back against the mattress with a contended sigh and not wasting a second as she reaches up and pull her husband's body on top of hers. She can hear him try to mutter something between kisses, but Lexie ignores him, instead curling her arms around his neck and twining her legs with his.

"I've missed this," Lexie whispers between kisses as she tugs him ever closer. "So much."

"Don't blame me, love," Mark murmurs back. He grins cheekily at her. "You're the one who wanted a baby three seconds after we got married. It's not my fault she doesn't have a normal sleeping schedule."

"Right," Lexie laughs quietly. "Like you would have wanted to wait any longer, weird sleeping schedule and all."

"Well, I want to wait now," he smiles, separating their lips and pulling away from her.

"What?" Lexie asks, clutching him closer in reply as he attempts to untangle their bodies. "Where are you going?"

"Just give me a second," Mark tells her, twisting their legs apart and getting to his feet. "And wait."

"Wait?" Lexie echoes in distress, flopping back against the mattress in displeasure. "Wait for what?"

He chuckles at her, kissing her quickly in assurance before getting to his feet. "One second," he says, walking to his dresser across the room. He rummages around in it for a moment before turning around. Lexie watches curiously from the bed as he heads back towards her, holding something enclosed in his fist.

"What am I waiting for?" She groans, her voice full of impatience. "What could be more important than the sex we were about to have?"

"This," Mark replies, sinking to his knees before her at the foot of their bed. Lexie swallows, managing to take a shallow breath as she stares down at her husband wide eyes and takes in the small velvet-covered box he's holding in his hands.

"Mark," she breathes. "Baby, what…"

"Happy anniversary," he whispers by way of explanation, and opens the box. Lexie stares at its contents in shocked silence, unable to say anything as she takes in the beautiful diamond ring resting within.

"You… You want to get married again?" She finally manages a few seconds later, tearing her eyes from the ring and lifting them to her husband. Mark just smiles and shakes his head.

"No," he replies softly. "No, I don't want to get married again. Our wedding was perfect. I just…" He takes her hand with his and sets the open box in her palm. "I thought you should have this."

"I—I know it's our anniversary, but, honey, you—you didn't…" She shakes her head, biting her lip in shocked happiness. "_God_, Mark, you didn't have to get me _this_."

"I wanted to," he replies simply. He stares at her, studying her face as she inspects the ring. "If you don't want it, I can take it back," he suggests softly after a moment.

"Are you kidding me?" Lexie scoffs, her eyes flying up to his as she immediately clutches the ring closer. "Of course I want it." She bends forward, examining the grandeur and precision of the ring's diamond presentation. "Good lord, how much did this _cost_?"  
>He shrugs, getting up and sitting beside her on the bed. "It cost what it cost," he replies evasively. She turns to meet his eyes and he nudges her side. "Come on, take it." He grins, leaning towards his wife. "You know you want it," he whispers in her ear.<p>

Lexie chuckles at his words. She picks up the ring, turning it in her hand before passing it to him. Mark's eyes follow her every move, and his gaze tightens when she sets it in his hand. He stares at it for a second before his eyes fly to hers. "Lex—"

"Here," she says softly, holding out her left hand. "You should be the one to put it on." Her eyes flick to his, catching his warm blue gaze as she watches relief flood his features. A smile spreads over Lexie's face as he takes her hand in his, holding the ring at the end of her third finger before slipping in on in one fluid movement. He lets go of her hand gently and she holds the ring up to the light, watching it glow in the dimly lit room.

"It's beautiful," she whispers. She turns to her husband a second later, placing a loving kiss on his lips. "Thank you so much." She sighs softly a moment later, but instead of hearing contentment in the exhalation, Mark only hears sadness.

"What's wrong?" He asks softly, meeting his wife's eyes with a worried look in his. "What is it?"

Lexie shakes her head, tipping her lips forward to kiss him quickly in reassurance. "It's nothing," she replies easily, holding his cheek in her hand. "It's just…" She sighs again, and her hand falls from his face to his chest. "I don't have anything nearly as nice as this to give to you," Lexie admits guiltily, her fingertips lingering in the center of his chest. "My gift is going to suck in comparison," she mutters darkly.

"Lexie." She can hear half-hidden laughter in his voice, and it doesn't make her feel any better.

"I didn't know you were going to do _this_," Lexie explains in a defensive hurry. "I—I—If I knew you were going to get me a _ring _then I would have gotten you something _so_ much better—"

"Whatever you got me is perfect, I'm sure," Mark interrupts quietly. He smiles at her, and part of her worry melts away when she sees the gesture light up his eyes. He sifts closer, reaching up and cupping her neck with a gentle hand. "Besides," he grins suggestively a moment later, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin on the back of her neck. His touch causes goosebumps to erupt on her skin, and she rolls her neck slightly in a knee-jerk reaction to the anticipatory sensation. He grins at her, his eyes bright. "You can make up the difference with sex." A small laugh escapes Lexie's lips, and she smiles at her husband before leaning forward to kiss him.

"Fine," she replies with a chuckle when their lips part. "But first," she instructs, "be honest."

Mark quirks an eyebrow in response, unsure of what she's asking him to own up to.

"Was this ring just an excuse to stage your own proposal?"

Mark laughs automatically. "No," he replies with a smile. "It was not. Like I said, I just wanted you to have the thing."

Lexie bites her lip, grinning knowingly at him. "You're still jealous that I stole the proposal, aren't you? It was your big moment and I took it from you."

Mark smiles warmly at her. "Love, I wasn't _going _to propose. You know that. But," he continues softly, "as long as we're married, I really don't care who asked whom."

"Aw," Lexie smiles, kissing him briefly. "Aren't you cute." She levels him with her gaze a second later. "And full of crap," she adds flatly. "I know you're jealous. Just admit it."

Mark shakes his head with a smile. "I'm never going to win with you, am I?"

Lexie grins triumphantly, putting on her best winning smile. She places her left hand on his leg and squeezes it; the pressure causes Mark to glance down, and when he does, Lexie turns her wrist so he can get a better view of the two rings on her fourth finger. When he looks back up to her face, her expression is solemn and serious. "I'd say you've won enough," she observes quietly.

Mark stares at her quietly before leaning forward to dip his mouth to meet hers. He brings his hands up to cup her cheeks, and as Lexie falls back against their familiar bed, Mark moves to hover above her, bending down and joining their lips together for the rest of the night.

. . .

_4 AM_

_. . ._

"Whose is it?" Lexie mutters groggily, forcing herself awake at the sound of incessant beeping from one of their pagers fills the previously still and silent room. "Mine or yours?"

"Mine," Mark replies from the other side of the bed. "It's mine."

"You have to go in?" Lexie yawns, stretching her body and blinking awake. The pitch-darkness of the room does little to help bring her to consciousness.

"Yeah," Mark mutters, half-stumbling sleepily out of bed. "It's an emergency. I've gotta go now."

"Now?" Lexie asks, feeling more awake at the news and propping herself up in bed as she watches him pull on a shirt over his bare chest and pants over his boxers. "Today?"

"Yeah," Mark sighs. He glances over his shoulder at her, and she can see the apology in his eyes without him even having to voice it.

"I thought we'd be able to spend the morning together," Lexie murmurs, wiping the sleep from her eyes, "before Anna woke up…"

"Yeah, me too," Mark mutters. His annoyance at being called in on his time off—and especially _this_ day off—rings clear through his tone of voice. When he sits on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes, Lexie crawls across the mattress and hugs him from behind.

"You okay to go in?" She asks quietly, placing kisses along the curve of his shoulder while her arms wrap around his upper torso. She tilts her head, meeting his eyes in the early-morning darkness of their bedroom. "Did you get enough sleep?"

Mark smirks slightly at the question, shaking his head as he bends down again to tie his shoes. "_No_," he replies whole-heartedly. She can hear pretend-irritation in his voice, but more than that, amusement. She smiles at it, hugging him tighter for a moment. "But last night was worth the sleep deprivation," he adds as he straightens back up.

"Maybe overexertion from sex can get you out of surgery," Lexie teases with a grin, letting go and settling herself beside him. She leans her head against the sleeve of his t-shirt, breathing deeply and closing her eyes as she takes in his wonderfully familiar scent.

"It hasn't worked before," Mark replies with a slight chuckle. "Sadly." He stands up a moment later and Lexie shifts to the end of the bed. She watches as he shrugs on his jacket, putting his phone and pager into its pockets.

"You be careful, alright?"

Mark turns his head to look at her, feeling an involuntary smile spread over his face just at the sight of her. He takes a few steps back towards her, bending down to kiss her briefly. "Always am," he replies after he straightens up. He frowns a second later, the smile disappearing from his features. "You'll be okay here with Anna?"

Lexie snorts, rolling her eyes. "Please, you think I can't take care of my own daughter?"

Mark tilts his head to the side, as if pondering her statement. "Well…"

"Oh, shut up," she grins, leaning forward to shove him away. "Go to work already," she calls.

"I'm going, I'm going," Mark chuckles as he heads to the door.

Lexie smiles, resting her head against her bended knees as she watches him walk away. "Love you," she calls after him.

Mark looks over his shoulder just as he's stepping through the doorway. "Love you, too," he replies with a soft smile. He glances down, looking to his watch quickly. "I won't be more than a few hours, at most. Hopefully I'll be back by the time Anna's awake."

Lexie nods. "Bye. Good luck."

"Thanks." He waves briefly before heading out to the car.

. . .

_7 AM_

. . .

"Mommy. _Mommy_. Mommy, Mommy, Mommy—"

"Annabelle, _what _is it?" Lexie groans, turning her head away from the pillow. She props herself up just a few inches above the bed, blinking open her eyes at the little face before her.

"Can we have pancakes?" Annabelle asks pertly, smiling widely at her mother in an attempt to win favor.

Lexie sighs, turning her head to her bedside table. She only manages to half-suppress a groan at its digital reading. "It is _seven_ o'clock, Anna. On a Saturday."

"It's pancake day!" The little girl cheers.

Lexie sighs, propping herself up a bit in bed. "That's tomorrow, Peach," she smiles gently.

"But _please?_" The little girl whines, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet. "We didn't have any last time—"

Lexie frowns, trying to remember. She'd had a meeting with Arizona that morning and missed breakfast… "Why not?"

Annabelle's mouth twists unhappily. "Daddy burned them." Her eyes widen a second later, and she stands on her tip-toes to see to the other side of the bed.

"He's at work, baby," Lexie explains before she can worry about being overheard. She sits up straighter a moment later, facing her daughter. "He burned them, huh?"

Annabelle nods vigorously. "Really bad. They were all black and gross, but told me not to tell you. We had oatmeal instead."

Lexie chuckles quietly, picturing the scene in her mind. _And he pretends to be such a good cook, _she thinks to herself. "Fine," she allows after a moment. "Pancakes it is," she smiles. "Just let me wake up and you can help me make them."

"_YAY!_" Annabelle screeches, jumping up and down for a moment before running out of the room and careening down the hall.

Lexie gets to her feet tiredly a minute later, smiling faintly when she hears her daughter chanting 'pancakes, pancakes, pancakes!' as she heads for the kitchen. Lexie grabs a thin robe that had been hanging on the door to her closet, slipping it on over her light pajamas as she walks out of the room, yawning all the while.

. . .

"Are they ready yet?" Annabelle asks for what must be the hundredth time not five minutes later.

"Not yet," Lexie repeats yet again, pouring all of the ingredients into a large mixing bowl. She grabs a whisk with one hand, steadying the bowl with her left as she beats the batter. After a few seconds of mixing, she turns to her daughter, holding out the bowl for her to try.

"Mommy, where'd that come from?" Annabelle blurts before her mother can offer her the whisk.

"Hm?" Lexie asks, scrutinizing the wide-eyed look on her daughter's face.

Answering her mother's question, Annabelle points to Lexie's left hand, poking the sparkling ring that rests on her fourth finger inquisitively. "Where's that from?"

"Oh," Lexie smiles. "It was a present, sweetie."

"Present?" Annabelle perks up, no doubt hoping that there's one for her, too. "From who?"

"Your dad," Lexie smiles. "Your Daddy gave it to me, baby girl."

"Why? Was it your birthday?"

Lexie shakes her head with a smile, setting the batter aside for a moment before bending down to speak with her daughter. "No, it was an anniversary gift, Belle. Your Daddy and I got married five years ago yesterday. That's why he got me the present. Here," she holds out her left hand. "Want to see?"

Annabelle nods vigorously, grabbing at her mother's hand with tiny fingers. She turns it this way and that, giving off little gasps when sunlight sparkles off of it. "Mommy, look," she whispers in awe, pointing at the reflected rainbows illuminating their kitchen. Lexie smiles, looking into her daughter's wide and deep blue eyes as she stares at the sparkling ring.

"Pretty, huh?" A familiar voice calls from the doorway. Lexie looks up, grinning when she catches her husband's warm and adoring gaze as he leans against the frame of their kitchen door.

"Very pretty," Lexie replies with a smile, getting to her feet as her daughter rushes across the room.

"Daddy!" Annabelle calls, sprinting towards him as quickly as her little legs can take her.

"Hey, li'l girl," he grins, bending down and scooping up his daughter when she comes towards him at a run. "What's up, Anna B?"

"You got Mommy a present!" She exclaims, her eyes bright and he smile wide and toothy.

"I did," he replies, cradling her in his arms.

"Did you get me something, too?" She asks excitedly, though her question sounds more like a demand than an inquiry. "Did you? Did you? Did you?"

"Now why would I get _you_ anything, Little Belle?" Mark asks, smiling down at his daughter. "It's not _your_ special day, is it?"

"But you got Mommy—"

"Well," he interrupts softly, holding her with one arm as his other digs in pocket. "I might have _something _for you…"

"Really?" She half-shrieks in excitement. "A present?"

He chuckles, grinning down at his daughter as he hands her the small ring box that had been emptied less than twelve hours ago. He glances to his wife, and when he notices her gaze is concentrated on the small box, he mouths the words, _It's not diamonds _to her before returning his attention to their daughter. "Here," he says, setting his daughter on the floor and bending down to look her in the eye. She grins at her father, twisting her body back and forth shyly as she awaits her present. "Take a look at this," he says, popping open the box. He watches his daughter's eyes go wide with a large grin. She reaches forward, picking up the plastic ring with something akin to reverence.

"It's so _big_," she whispers, staring at the plastic fake-diamond arrangement.

"What do you say to your Dad, Belle?" Lexie asks, moving to stand a few feet behind her daughter. Annabelle looks up and over her shoulder, catching her mother's eye before looking back to her father.

"Thank you, Dad-dy," she sing-songs with a huge smile.

"You're welcome, baby girl." He grins, watching as she slips it on her index finger before running out of the kitchen and dancing down the hallway. He chuckles, his eyes following her for a few seconds before he gets to his feet.

"You spoil her too much," Lexie points out from the stovetop. Mark looks over at her quiet words, smiling when he notices she's forcing herself to sound stern.

"What?" Mark asks innocently, walking up behind her. "What are you talking about?"

"You get her every little thing she wants," Lexie points out, bending down to grab a pan from a drawer beneath the stove. "Things she doesn't need."

"So?"

"_So,_" Lexie replies, placing the pan on the stove, "she'll get used to it soon enough, and then you'll never be able to refuse her. You'll get her whatever she wants, no matter what it is."

"I think you're confusing your daughter with yourself," Mark replies, stepping closer. "Cause you know full well I've never had any self control when it comes to you, baby."

"Mark." Lexie lets out a warning tone.

"Anna's out of the room," he replies dismissively, taking one last step to close the space between them and wrapping his arms around her waist to pull their bodies close. Lexie opens her mouth to protest, turning her head to admonish him, but before she can, his head is hovering above her shoulder and his soft words are drifting past her ear. "Though," he muses quietly, "maybe if I spoiled _you _more, you wouldn't be so judgmental about how I treat our daughter. …And then I wouldn't have to bother trying to control myself at all." Lexie looks down, her smile widening as she places her hand on his two that are resting comfortably on her abdomen. "Hm?" He murmurs in her ear, lowering his head until it rests on her right shoulder. "Should I spoil you more?" He wonders aloud, pulling apart the sloppy knot holding her robe closed with one quick tug. "Would you like that, love?"

"Depends on what kind of spoiling you're talking about," Lexie replies, turning her head slightly to catch his eye. She grins, and he smiles in return when he sees her eyes light up.

"Oh, I think we both know what type of spoiling I'm talking about," he smirks, sneaking a hand beneath her pajama top and caressing her soft skin.

Lexie arches her eyebrows. "_Do_ we, now?"

"I'll give you a hint," Mark replies, twisting his neck towards her until their lips are just a couple centimeters apart. Lexie glances down, a smile spreading over her face, as she stretches forward to meet him halfway. Her left hand cups his cheek, pulling him closer as his arms encircle her midsection more securely.

"Mm," Lexie murmurs happily when they pull apart a minute later, "good hint."

She can feel her husband smile against her lips. "That wasn't the hint," Mark replies.

"Oh?" Lexie raises her eyebrows.

He chuckles softly, leaning forward to capture her lips again. "Let's put it this way," he murmurs, his eyes locked with hers. "That ring I gave you?" She glances down to the piece of jewelry wrapped around her finger, and when she looks back up, there's a suggestive smile on his face. "It barely made up for what you did last night."

Lexie grins at the reference, and remembering how enthusiastically they'd celebrated their anniversary the night before, she presses her lips against his and kisses him hard for a few endless seconds. "So you'll be paying me back in the future, then?" She asks as she pulls away.

"If we didn't have that spoiled little girl running around the house," Mark smiles, "I'd pay you back right now," he replies huskily, capturing her lips easily. "Right here, right on this counter."

Lexie laughs aloud into the kiss, a wide smile spreading across her face as she pulls back.

"Oh, you think I'm joking, do you?" Mark smirks. His hands slips to her waist and cup her hips firmly. "I'm completely serious, you know."

Lexie just giggles in reply, kissing him chastely before meeting his eyes with a happy grin. "You're resenting the existence of your daughter right now, aren't you?" She teases. "Don't lie; I can tell."

"Just the tiniest bit," Mark replies with a smile, leaning forward. "But don't tell her," he adds before covering her lips with his own. Lexie sighs happily into the kiss, placing a hand on her husband's chest and clutching his shirt to draw him closer before they're interrupted by a loud shriek.

"Gross!" Annabelle shouts, glaring at her parents with narrowed eyes and pointing a finger at them from the kitchen doorway.

"Gross?" Lexie repeats in exaggerated disbelief, turning to her daughter. "What's so gross, babe?"

"Kissing!" Annabelle replies shrilly, pointing at her parents. "That's what's gross! You kissed him!"

"In my defense, Belle, he started it," Lexie replies seriously. She watches as her daughter scrunches her nose up, making a disgusted face, before turning around and running off again without so much as a backward glance. Lexie chuckles, watching the little girl dash out of the room for a moment before turning her head to meet her husband's gaze.

"You hear that?" Lexie asks, amused. "She just said we were gross. Her own parents."

"And she doesn't even know the half of it," Mark replies with his characteristic smirk that causes Lexie to roll her eyes.

"Move," she smiles a second later, pushing him gently away. "I've gotta finish making breakfast."

"Oh, and I'm in the way of that, hm?" Mark asks as he wraps his arms more tightly around her abdomen. "Am I bothering you?" He inquires. "Am I taking up too much of your time, Little Grey?"

"Come on," Lexie groans with a chuckle, prying his fingers away. "Go be useful. Find Anna and tell her breakfast's almost ready."

"Fine," Mark smiles. He kisses her cheek quickly before stepping back and heading out of the kitchen.

"Mark," she calls after him.

"Yeah?"

Lexie smiles to herself for a second before turning to catch his eye. "I might take you up on that offer."  
>He smiles slightly, and the tilt of his head lets her know he isn't completely sure about what she's talking about. In answer, the raps her knuckles on their marble counter. "Payback, remember?" She grins. "Plus, you've gotta make up for running out on me this morning, too. So it better be good."<p>

He chuckles, shaking his head before turning away. "God, you're worse than I am," he mutters happily on his way out.

"You're the one who suggested it," Lexie calls after with a smile after him. "You can't expect me not to contemplate the offer!"

She hears him laugh from a room away. "You can't get the idea out of your head, now, can you?"

"Don't offer me things you aren't willing to come through on," Lexie warns him with a smile as she hears tiny feet pounding across their kitchen's wooden floor. She hears her husband's heavier steps a moment later, and as she sets a plateful of pancakes in front of their daughter, she catches Mark's eye with mischievous glint in hers.

"_And_," she smirks, "I heard you burned the pancakes last week." She nods toward their daughter. "You promised this kid breakfast and she ended up with oatmeal? What kind of a father _are you_?"

"Mommy!" Annabelle protests through a mouthful of pancakes, her voice cutting through her father's quiet laughter. "You weren't supposed to tell!"

"I think it was _you _who wasn't supposed to tell," Mark replies, tapping his daughter's nose lightly. "What're you doing, sharing secrets, Belle? That was top-secret information, you know."

"She likes me better," Lexie replies with a triumphant smile. "That's why she told me."

"She likes your _cooking _better," Mark corrects.

"Exactly," Lexie grins, stepping to the side of her daughter's chair. "And everyone knows the way to this little girl's heart is through her _stomach_!" She reaches out, tickling her daughter's tummy for a few seconds at the little girl squeals in laughter.

Mark heaves a heavy sigh. "And here I thought I was on the right track. I got her jewelry and everything." He looks to his daughter, his expression serious. "Didn't you like the pretty ring I got you, Belle? Isn't it better than your Mom's food?"

Annabelle stares at her father for a few quiet seconds before picking up her plate. "Can I have more pancakes?" She asks, deflecting his questions.

Mark stares at her for a moment before laughing and taking the plate. "Fine," he replies easily. "But you're going to miss my attempts to buy your favor someday, Belle."

Lexie watches her husband with a smile, still standing crouched by her daughter's chair. She almost jumps when a little voice whispers in her ear. "Can you make them instead?" Annabelle asks her mother; her whisper comes out, no doubt, much louder than she intended. "Daddy'll burn 'em all."

"I heard that," Mark warns from the stovetop, not relinquishing his post.

Lexie grins, kissing her daughter's head before straightening up and walking over to the stove. "Don't worry, Belle," she calls over her shoulder. "I won't let your Dad burn your breakfast, no matter how proud he is."

. . .

_Five_

. . .

"This is pathetic," Lexie whispers raggedly, "but I think I might actually cry."

Mark smiles faintly, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. "She's our only child," he reminds her. "You're allowed to cry over leaving her." He squeezes her body against his. "Just remember that it's only for a few hours, okay? She'll be back home before you know it."

Lexie takes a ragged breath. "I want her home _now_. I don't want to leave her here." She turns her head, looking up at her husband. "Mark, why do we have to let her go?"

"Lex," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her temple as he reaches for her hand. She grips it tightly. "She has to go to school sometime, love."

"But why does it have to be today?"

Mark looks at her seriously. "Would you feel any better if it was tomorrow instead?"

"No," Lexie replies reluctantly after a moment. "I guess not." She sighs, closing her eyes. The brick building before them disappears behind her eyes, and for a moment, the past is alive in her memory. "I want her to be a little baby again," Lexie whispers. "I want to be able to hold her and carry her and…" She breaks off, without words. She opens her eyes to find Mark's staring at her.

He pulls her close for a hug immediately. "I know," he whispers into her hair. "I wish we could get all that time back, too."

"She's going to grow up," Lexie whispers, feeling the tears really threaten to fall now. "She already is grow—"

They jump slightly when there's a loud banging across the small lawn. Mark and Lexie look over to see their little girl waving through the window with enthusiastic smile on her face. A young woman holding her aloft seems to be the kindergarten teacher. She shouts loud enough to be heard through the glass. "Bye, Mommy! Bye, Daddy!"

Lexie bites her lip, trying not to cry, as she and Mark wave back. Anna smiles at them quickly before being deposited back to the floor. She runs away to play with the other kids immediately, but Mark and Lexie's eyes linger on the space she left long after she's left their line of sight. When they hear a sharp rap on the glass, their eyes shift over a few feet to see the young woman who had held their daughter a moment ago.

The kindergarten teacher is holding up a whiteboard in front of the window so they can see. _She'll be fine, I promise, _it reads._ Now GO TO WORK._ Mark mouths an exaggerated '_Thank you_' so she can see it and waves with a smile. Lexie laughs slightly, offering the woman a weak smile before turning away to lean her head against her husband's shoulder.

"You must think I'm such a freak," she mutters, wiping her eyes as they turn to head back to the car a moment later.

"I've always thought you were a freak," Mark replies casually, causing Lexie to chuckle, "but why are you bringing it up now?"

"Well, because…" Lexie moves her head to stare at him. "Aren't most parents dying to get their kids in school so they can go back to their lives? And here I am freaking out about leaving her here and dreading going back to work."

Mark smiles gently. "Well, if it makes you feel any better," he tells her, "I'm freaking out, too."

Lexie rolls her eyes at him, knowing he's only attempting to make her feel better. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," Mark replies seriously. He holds her gaze while they get into the car. "You have no idea how many times I've thought about whether that Miss Royola is a serial kidnapper or not."

Lexie cracks a smile, taking his hand as they walk to the car. "Maybe she is. She did look suspiciously happy to see Anna."

"And the way she just told us to get to work?" Mark adds. "In all caps? Seems suspicious to me. What if that was only a ploy to get rid of witnesses when she makes off with our baby?"

Lexie laughs quietly, but when Mark opens his mouth to say something more, she waves him away. "Okay, okay!" She chuckles. "You're only going to worry me, so stop!"

Mark smiles, leaning over the console to get a good look at his wife. "She will be perfectly fine at school," he tells her earnestly. "I promise you nothing will happen."

Lexie nods, reaching out to touch his cheek gently. "I know," she whispers. "I just…" She takes a challenging breath, shifting in her seat to face him fully. "She'll come back to us, won't she?" Lexie whispers, staring at her husband. "She'll be back?"

Mark closes his eyes with a smile. "Honey," he whispers patiently, "she's _five_. She has nowhere else to go."

"No," Lexie mutters, "I didn't mean now. I meant after… After she's gone off into the world… After she's married and had kids of her own, she'll…" Lexie bites her lip, looking to her husband. "She'll come back to us eventually, won't she?"

Mark smiles, and he leans forward to kiss her briefly. "Of course she'll be back." He grins a moment later. "But come on, Lex. Why would she ever want to leave us in the first place?"

Lexie gives him a small smile, caressing his cheek for a moment before dropping her hand. "What time were you going to pick her up? Three?"

Mark nods, reversing out of the parking space.

"I have an appendectomy at two, but if it finishes early…" She trails off, and Mark looks over with a smile.

"You wanna come with?" He asks.

Lexie nods.

"Good, then it's decided. We'll pick her up together." He reaches over, meeting her eyes quickly before looking back to the road. "She'll be excited to see you; I told her it'd just be me and her this afternoon."

"Were you going to take the day off or bring her into work?"

"I can take off if you need me to, but I already told Robbins' I'd do her kid with the middle ear infection later today before I left…"

Lexie nods. "Want us to hang around until you're done? I can get Anna a coloring book or something and we can sit in the gallery."

Mark smiles, averting his eyes from the road for a second to catch her eye. "I'd love that," he admits softly. "I would… I would really love that."

. . .

_Seven_

_. . ._

"We're good parents, aren't we?"

Mark Sloan looks up from the itinerary he'd been studying at the voice, his head swiveling towards the sound. He meets his wife's eyes as she looks over her shoulder at him from the doorway of their daughter's bedroom. He makes his way quietly across the floor, leaning against the other side of the doorframe. He stares at his wife in silence for a second before asking, "Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," Lexie whispers, her eyes trained on her still-slumbering daughter in the small bed. She watches as the early-morning light filters in through the slits in the blinds. "It's just that…" She pauses, chewing on her lower lip. "Lately, I've been wondering, with Anna getting older and everything… Have we really done right by her? Have we been here enough? Have we… been in her life enough?"

Mark sighs softly, tilting his head to meet her eyes more clearly. "This is because of the New York trip, isn't it?"

"I'll be gone for two entire _weeks_," Lexie whispers, her pained eyes finding his. "She already doesn't see me all day—"

"She's at _school_ all day," Mark points out. He pauses a moment. "Are you saying you don't want to go?" He asks quietly. His eyes flicker to the suitcase, all packed and ready to go, sitting just a few feet away. "Because it's kind of too late—"

Lexie shakes her head. "No," she replies immediately. "No, I want to go. Of course I want to go. It's an honor to be chosen to speak. But…" She bites down hard on her lower lip. "I don't want to leave her. Or you," she adds, meeting his eyes. "I don't want to be gone that long."

"It's just fourteen days."

Lexie scoffs quietly. "'It's just fourteen days,' he says."

Mark gives her a small smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "Call us every night, okay?"

Lexie sighs slowly before reluctantly closing her eyes and nodding. "Okay. I will."

Mark glances to his watch, forcing himself to break the easy silence in their house. "If we want to get to the airport in enough time for you to leave…"

Lexie nods. "Okay. I'll wake her up."

"I'll take your suitcase out to the car."

. . .

"I better get in line for security," Lexie tells her husband an hour later, "before it starts getting too crowded."

Mark nods, coming slowly to a stop as he holds his daughter's hand. He forces a smile for his wife. "Knock 'em dead, okay?"

"I'll do my best," she smiles back, laughing quietly before stepping forward and hugging him tightly. Mark drops his daughter's hand for a couple seconds to hug her back. After they pull apart, Lexie kneels down in front of her daughter. Mark takes a few steps back to give them a moment of privacy.

"I've gotta go now, baby," Lexie explains quietly, forcing herself to stay calm. "But I'll be home as soon as possible, okay?"

Annabelle stares up at her mother with deep, blue eyes. "I don't think you should go, Mommy," she whispers.

Lexie gives her daughter a small smile. "Oh, I don't want to go, either, Annie. But I have to, sweetie. I'm sorry."

Annabelle turns her head to look over her shoulder for a moment, and after deeming her father to be far enough out of earshot, she takes a step closer to her mother, lowering her voice. "Daddy gets sad when you're gone, Mommy. I don't think you should go."

Lexie freezes for a second. Her eyes fly immediately to Mark's, but he truly does seem to be far enough out of earshot. A second later, she composes herself, forcing a quick smile. "Well," she murmurs to her daughter after a moment, brushing some of her wavy light-brown hair behind her little ears, "will you promise me that when you see Daddy get sad, you'll try to make him feel better?"

Annabelle nods vigorously.

"Or have him call me, okay?" Lexie suggests. "Tell him not to worry about the time difference. Just call me."  
>"Okay, Mommy."<p>

Lexie smiles bending forward to envelop her daughter in a tight hug. "I love you, baby girl."

When she pulls back, Mark is back by her side. He takes their daughter's hand as Lexie gets to her feet. She kisses him quickly, unable to help herself from putting a bit more force behind the gesture after what she'd just heard, and whispers her love in his ear. She bends over to press a firm kiss to her daughter's forehead, telling her to take care of her father before heading toward the growing line of flyers with a final wave.

. . .

"Hey," Lexie says seven hours later, answering her phone on the first ring. "How are you? How's Anna?"

Mark Sloan smiles on the other end of the phone. "I'm fine," he replies. "Going over some cases in my office. Anna's at school. More importantly," he adds, "how are _you_? Excited?"

He grins when he hears her laugh. "Sure, _excited_," Lexie replies sarcastically. "That's what I am."

"You can't say you're _completely_ dreadingit," Mark smirks. "How was the flight?"

"It was fine. I'm on my way to the hotel now."

He nods, remembering the itinerary he'd glanced at early this morning. "At least they put you up somewhere nice," he recalls.

"Yeah," Lexie mutters, "a fancy room I'm going to do nothing except _sleep in_ is a great trade-off for having to present in front of hundreds of people. For three days straight."

"You're practiced your talks," Mark reminds her patiently. "Arizona double-checked everything you're presenting. Richard signed off. Lex, you're golden. Stop worrying."

Lexie sighs, closing her eyes momentarily. "I just hate making speeches, is all," she mutters after a second.

Mark smirks across the length of his empty office. "Well, you really struck out with this one, then. Maybe if you stopped being such a successful surgeon people wouldn't want to make you fly across the country for week-long lectures."

"_Two _weeks," Lexie corrects, the misery seeping back into her voice. Mark listens to her sigh on the other side of the phone. "I wish you could've come," she whispers plaintively.

His lips twitch in a sad smile. "Me too. But someone's gotta take care of Anna."

"Yeah, yeah," Lexie replies. "I know. One of us needs to be responsible."

"Funny it should be me," Mark jokes.

Lexie chuckles quietly before asking very gently, "Mark? Are you going to be…okay while I'm gone?"

"I'll be fine," he replies immediately. "Don't worry about me, okay? Just focus on you and what you have to accomplish in the next couple days."

Lexie sighs quietly, knowing the sound won't be distinguishable through the phone among all the other ambient noises. She'll press him on this another time. "Okay," she replies reluctantly. "I have the first leg of my presentation this afternoon and then a dinner tonight, but will you have Anna call me tomorrow night? I love your voice, but I'd like to hear hers, too."

Mark smiles, blinking slowly. "Of course," he replies. "Good luck today. I love you."

"I love you too," Lexie replies. "And thank you; I'm going to need it."

. . .

Two days later, Lexie Grey Sloan can't help to hold back a smile as she concludes the end of her three-day presentation. Glancing at her watch after the applause dies down, she's surprised to notice that her talk ended a few minutes early.

"Well," she says with a smile, facing the once-daunting but now-familiar crowd before her, "if there aren't any questions..." She trails off, waiting for interruptions that don't come. "I think it's almost lunch, so for those of you who need to be first in line..." She holds an arm to the side doors. "The exit's right there. Don't worry, I won't hold it against you if you run out; I know how good the chicken is." She smiles at the quiet laughter, stepping back from the center of the platform.

. . .

At the back of the lecture hall, Mark Sloan is smiling as well, holding onto his daughter's hand and watching as the varied assortment of doctors and medical students rise to their feet. He waits, loitering by the back door for a few minutes until the last few people finish congratulating his wife and leave through the side door. He puts a finger to his lips, looking pointedly to his daughter. She grins, mimicking him. He picks her up, stepping quietly down the side stairs. When they reach the landing, Mark sets her down. He clears his throat quietly, and when Lexie doesn't look up from the notes she's studying, he speaks up.

"I had a question, actually," he says, taking a couple steps closer.

"One second," she replies, scanning the paper in her hands. She smiles quickly in the general direction of the door, waving the voice forward without sparing a glance to see who the owner is. "Sorry," she says, tucking the papers away in a folder. "I was just going over my notes, seeing if I missed anything," she mutters, turning to the visitor and flashing a quick smile. "Your question?" She prompts, just before registering who's standing before her.

"Did you miss us, Dr. Sloan?" Mark asks, grinning at the shocked, frozen look on his wife's face.

Before Lexie can even begin to formulate a reply, let alone process the two people standing before her, Annabelle is running towards her at full tilt. "Mommy, we came to surprise you!" She shouts, running into her mother's legs with a dull _thump_. Lexie's eyes flick from her husband's face to her daughter's bright and energetic eyes, looking up from just below her waist. She shakes her head in disbelief, finding Mark's eyes and biting her lip to hold back her emotion. He smiles gently, knowing what she's feeling.

A second later, Lexie reaches down and scoops her daughter. She wraps her arms around the little girl, holding her tight. _Thank you_, she mouths over the little girl's shoulder to her husband. He just smiles, taking a few more steps forward to join them. Lexie presses an emphatic kiss to her daughter's head before setting her down. She looks between the two in wonder, shaking her head.

"Now what are _you two _doing here?" She asks happily.  
>"Well, I couldn't very well miss your big moment, could I?" Mark replies with a smile. He glances down to their daughter. "And Anna wanted to see it, too; who am I to deny her?"<p>

Lexie's lips spread in a happy grin, and she spreads her arms, stepping forward to greet him with a fast hug. "Thank you so much for coming," she whispers hoarsely in her husband's ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Mark smiles, gently untangling them. He reaches out, squeezing her hand tightly. "You're more than welcome." He glances down to their daughter. "So, Belle, what did you think of your Mom's speech? Good?"

Annabelle perks up, pointing two thumbs to the sky. "So good!" She replies. "And everybody clapped, it was like you were famous!"

Lexie lifts a hand to her mouth to hide her laughter. When the sobers a moment later, she thanks her daughter graciously. "So," she continues a moment later. "What do you two want to do while you're here?"

"Can we go to the park?" Annabelle asks excitedly. "The big one, with all the horseies?"

Mark spares a quick smiles for his wife before turning to their daughter. "Why don't we get some lunch instead?" He asks. He glances to Lexie. "You're probably starving."

Annabelle immediately pouts, but before her mother assuages her worries a second later.  
>"No, I think I'd like to go to the park," she announces.<p>

Mark frowns at her. "Lex, you don't have to—"

"I want to," she interrupts with a smile. "I have an hour and a half for lunch…" She takes her husband's hand. "Why don't you show us around?"  
>. . .<p>

"Have I told you recently that you're a perfect husband?" Lexie whispers a half-hour later as they meander along the twisting paths of Central Park. Mark smiles absentmindedly, his eyes following the little girl chasing after butterflies a few yards away.

"Not too recently, no," he murmurs.

"Because you are," Lexie replies softly, reaching out for his hand while her eyes, too, stay glued to their frolicking daughter. "You're the best."

Mark squeezes her hand, averting his eyes for the briefest moment to lean over to kiss his wife's temple. "I did it for you."

"I know." She shakes her head with an ever-widening grin. "But—how? What about work? And school—"

"It was all taken care of before we left," Mark assures her with a smile. "Don't worry about anything."

"I'm not," Lexie smiles. "I just…" She trails off, not knowing what to say. "I can't believe I missed her first plane ride," she finally settles on.

"Oh," Mark grins. "Was _that_ an adventure."

"Oh, no," Lexie moans in laughter. "What did she do?"

"I'll put it this way, she's easily excitable," Mark replies.

"Give me the details later," Lexie chuckles. She turns her head, finding her daughter bent over a clump of wildflowers. She's systematically picking out different colors, holding them in her tiny fist like a miniature bouquet.

"Mark, I…" She turns her head back around, facing her husband again. "I can't believe you did this for me," she whispers, staring into his eyes. "I really can't believe it."

He smiles down at her lovingly. "I would've brought Anna sooner, but I didn't want us to distract you before your talks."

Lexie nods quickly, pulling away and continuing down the path as their daughter skips ahead of them. "Good idea," she replies softly, squeezing his hand. "I would never have been able to pay attention."

. . .

"I missed you," Mark whispers later that night, running the tips of his fingers over her cheek. Lexie smiles softly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. She moves her head towards his to kiss him.

"I missed you too," she murmurs after pulling away. Her fingers linger on his skin, and a second later, she can't ignore it any longer. "Anna told me not to leave," she whispers, rubbing her thumb lightly against his cheekbone. She smiles slightly when his forehead creases in confusion. "I thought it was just cause she'd miss me," Lexie explains a moment later, "but then she said it was because you got sad whenever I left." She stares at him, barely blinking. "She was worried about you, Mark."

Mark's eyes close, and he lets out a long sigh. "That little traitor," he mutters when he opens his eyes a moment later. A half-smile plays on his lips. "I can't believe she sold me out."

Lexie doesn't return his smile. "I don't want you to worry about me," she tells him seriously. "I'm already uneasy whenever I leave you two, and if _Anna_ has been noticing, Mark, then really—"

"Lex, it's nothing," he interrupts her quietly. Her sharp glare conveys more skepticism than her words ever could. "Fine," he mutters a moment later. "It's just…" He exhales, trying to find the words. "I don't like it when we're apart, okay? I get nervous, and worried—what if something happens to you, and I'm not there?" He sighs quietly. "I'm sure she can sense things like that. It isn't hard to tell when one of us is upset about being apart, Lex, and she spends her entire life around us. She was bound to notice eventually."

Lexie exhales softly, absorbing this. "Fine," she replies after a moment. "But in the future," she tells him. "If you get worried about me or nervous or sad—just _tell me_, okay? Call me, text me…" She smiles, kissing his lips briefly. "Mark, I'll fly home if it's that bad."

He smiles, but shakes his head. "It's not _that_ bad," he replies. "I just…" He reaches an arm out, pulling her body against his. "I don't like sleeping without you. I don't like being alone in our bed."

Lexie smiles, snuggling herself closer to him. "Well, you won't be alone much longer."

Mark grins, holding her close. He glances over her shoulder, reading the clock on the far bedside table. _12:23 AM_. "You should get some sleep," he tells her softly, separating their bodies by just a few inches so they can lie back against the mattress comfortably. "You've got a big week and a half ahead of you."

Lexie nods, resting her head against a pillow but keeping it within reach of his. "Thank you so much for coming," she whispers softly after a moment. "And for bringing Anna. You have no idea what this means to me."

"I saw how unhappy you were to leave," Mark replies gently, wrapping an arm around her waist as well. "And I knew this was an important trip for you. I didn't want you to be worried about us the whole time, not when you should be concentrating on work."

Lexie shakes her head. "This isn't work. Surgery is work. This is just—talking and presenting research and shaking hands…" She sighs tiredly. "It's boring." A smile curves up her lips a moment later, and she turns her head to press a kiss against the fabric covering his shoulder. "I'd whine and complain and say I want to go home, but you've brought home to me."

Mark smiles. "I tried my best."

Lexie lifts her head, looking him in the eye. "You and Anna are here," she replies seriously. "That's all I need. That's all I want."

Mark blinks slowly, and she can see the simple contentment written all over his face just at their proximity. "Good, then," he whispers, just before leaning forward and kissing her softly.

. . .

_Ten_

_. . ._

"Dad?"

Mark Sloan looks up from the research he's studying to see his daughter sitting next to him at the kitchen table. "Yeah?" He asks, pushing the papers away and turning to face her.

"I wanted to ask you something…" Mark nods, waiting for her to continue. "Well, I was at Hannah's house yesterday, and she was showing me these crazy old pictures of her parents, from when the got married and stuff and…" She trails off, staring at him. "Why don't you and Mom have any wedding pictures?" She asks quietly.

Mark smiles at her. "Your mother and I, we… We didn't exactly have what most would consider a _traditional_ wedding," he replies slowly.

"But you are—you are married, right?" Annabelle asks, her forehead creasing in worry. "Because if—"

Mark smiles, holding out his left hand for her to see. "What does that look like to you?"

Annabelle stares at the ring on his hand for a second. "It looks like a wedding ring," she finally admits with a smile.

Mark smiles back, pulling it off and passing it to her. "Here," he says, "wanna see?"

Anna takes it delicately, weighing it in her hand for a moment. Her eyes flick up to her father's momentarily before she slips the ring on the second-to-last digit on her left finger. It hangs loosely on her tiny fingers. "It's too big," she laughs, moving it to her other fingers in an attempt to make it fit. She passes it back when it doesn't even fit around her thumb, and Mark slips it on easily.

"You said you didn't have a traditional wedding," Annabelle reminds him. "What…" She frowns. "I don't really know what that means."

Mark smiles, feeling oddly happy sharing this part of his life with his daughter. "It means your Mom and I decided not to have our wedding in a church."

Annabelle frowns. "But don't you have to?"

Mark shakes his head with a smile. "Not really. When people get married in churches, it's just so they can invite all of their friends and family and share their moment and their day with the people they love—"

Annabelle grins. "What, you and Mom didn't have any friends?"

Mark chuckles. "No, we had friends. We just felt like having our ceremony in private."

"So where was it?"

"In the courthouse."

"The courthouse?" Annabelle repeats. "Why there?"

"Well, that's where you have to go to get legally married," Mark explains. "No matter what sort of wedding you're having, every couple has to have an official sign off on it and make it legal. So we went and did that, and we decided that it was enough." He smiles. "We didn't really want a big church wedding, anyway."

Annabelle absorbs this in silence before noting, "Well, I think you should have had one anyways."

"Oh, yeah?" Mark asks. "Why?"

She grins. "Cause then I could make fun of how funny you would look in the pictures."

Mark chuckles. "Nice, Belle. Real nice."

She laughs along with him for a few seconds before sobering. She stares at him covertly for a couple second before speaking. "Hey, Daddy?" Annabelle asks quietly. "What did you say to Mom to get her to marry you?"

Mark smiles to himself, and just as he opens his mouth to reply, his wife answers for him, walking in from the far side of the room. "He didn't say anything, actually," she informs their daughter.

Annabelle turns around, staring at her mother in confusion as she approaches. "What does that mean?"

Lexie grins, and there's an amused glint in her eyes that shows when she glances to her husband. "I asked him, he didn't ask me."

Annabelle's eyes go wide. "_What_? _You_ did?"

"I said _something_," Mark replies, turning around with a smile as she walks up behind him. "I said '_yes_,' didn't I?"

Lexie grins, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly. "That was definitely my favorite word at the time."

"Belle was trying on my ring," Mark explains a second later, "but it was about five sizes too big." He smiles over at his wife. "Maybe she could try yours?"

Lexie smiles, twisting her ring off and passing it to her daughter. "Let's see how it fits, then."

Annabelle grins, reaching out to grab it. Just before she's about to slip it on her finger, the light catches the metal, and she sees some letters written on the inside. She holds it up to her eyes, inspecting the inscription. Lexie feels a smile bloom on her face when Mark reaches over to squeeze her hand.

"Can you read it?" She asks quietly.

"'I will always be yours,'" she reads. She smiles before lowering the ring. "Who put that there?"

Lexie smiles, bumping her hip against Mark's as she points to him. "This guy."

"Aw," Annabelle smiles. "That's so cute, Dad."

Mark grins. "I'm glad you approve. I may not have done a whole proposal—"

"—or any proposal," Lexie cuts in with a smile.

"—but at least I made the exchange of rings romantic," he continues.

Annabelle smiles at their light bickering, studying the ring again before looking to her father. "Does yours say it, too? Do they match?" She asks, slipping the ring on. It's still a little too big, so she takes it off and hands it back to her mother, who promptly returns it to the fourth finger on her left hand.

"They match perfectly," Mark replies. He reaches out, snaking a hand around his wife's waist. "Just like you and me."

Annabelle giggles when her mother groans, pretending to sound embarrassed. But she can see the smile only half-hidden on her mother's face, and she grins back.

. . .

_Age Eleven_

_. . ._

"Hey, Mom?"  
>"Yeah?"<p>

"How did you and Dad meet?" Annabelle asks softly, sitting in a chair next to her mother. Lexie looks up from the medical journal she's reading, turning her head to look at her daughter.

"Hm?"

"You and Dad," Annabelle repeats. "How did you meet? You've never told me what you did on your first date or anything."

"Oh, we…" _Teach me. _Lexie glances away, forcing herself not to blush in front of her pre-teen daughter at the memory.

"What?" Annabelle smiles, noticing her hesitation. "You can't remember? You're not _that _old, Mom."

"Oh, thanks, Belle," Lexie replies sourly. "And, no, I do remember. It just took a moment, is all. We met at work."

"At the hospital?"

"Yup."

"And…what?" Annabelle grins. "Did your eyes meet across a crowded operating room?" She snickers. "Was it love at first sight?"

"Not exactly," Lexie chuckles in reply.

"Well, what happened, then?" Annabelle questions seriously a moment later. "Did he ask you out or something?"

Lexie sets down the journal in her hand, staring at her daughter. "Belle, why are you so curious?"

"I'm just wondering, is all. You've never told me about you and Dad. And everyone else knows about how their parents met," she adds defensively.

"Okay," Lexie replies, drawing out the word as she thinks quickly. "Well, no, actually, he didn't ask me out."

Annabelle stares at her, waiting for a response.

"I asked him out."

"You did?" Annabelle asks with a surprised smile. "But girls never do that!"

Lexie shrugs. "I felt like it."

"Why?"

"He…" _Oh, no, I'm not judging. He _is _kind of insanely hot. _"He seemed like an interesting person."

"So what did you do?"

"Hm?"

"On your first date," Annabelle presses. "What did you do?"

"Oh…" Lexie trails off, searching for an appropriate answer. "We, you know, we saw a movie. Had dinner." _Showed up at his hotel room. Stripped._

"_Mom_," Annabelle replies with a faint groan. "I'm not an _idiot_. Come on, tell me what you really did."

"We ordered in food at the hospital and watched a surgery together for a couple hours," Lexie replies quickly before the truth can come out. _We stayed in bed all night._

"That's _it_?" Annabelle asks dubiously, the smile from a minute ago disappearing off her face.

"That's it," Lexie replies.

"Oh my _god_," Annabelle moans dramatically, throwing her head back for emphasis. "You two are _such_ dorks. And that is _so _boring," she adds.

"Hey," Lexie replies, half-defensive at her daughter's judgment of her fake date and half-relieved she didn't see through this lie as easily as the other. "We were on-call. It's easier to stay on the premises in case an emergency rolls in."

"Well, yeah, but… Surgery? _Really_? Isn't a date supposed to be _fun_? And don't you get enough of cutting people open at work?" She makes a disgusted face. "And how could you _eat _with all that gore going on like two feet away?"

"Ah, Belle," Lexie sighs indulgently. "You can never get enough of cutting people open when you're a surgeon. It's like oxygen."

Annabelle frowns, crossing her arms. "Well, did you even _talk_ to each other? Or did you just sit there in silence while Aunt Meredith or someone cut some guy to pieces? I bet you didn't even say one word to each other."

"It was your Uncle Derek's surgery, actually," Lexie replies. "And yeah, we talked. Got to know each other a little bit." _Come on, am I really so bad?_

"And what then? Did you ask him out again?"

"No," Lexie replies slowly, remembering, years ago, when he'd muttered in her ear at Joe's about his hotel room being closer to Denver if she wanted to come along for the ride. "He asked me out. And before you complain, we _did _go out to dinner," she fibs. "I even wore a dress, so there you go." _I even kept my clothes on. …For a half-hour or so._

"Good," Annabelle sighs in mock-relief. "I was starting to think neither of you were even the least bit human."

"We're plenty human," Lexie replies with an amused smile. "We're just a subspecies."

Annabelle shakes her head, muttering, "you're crazy," under her breath before raising her voice. "So what happened after that?"  
>Lexie shrugs, trying not to look like she was making things up as she went along. "We dated for a while."<p>

"Did you break up?" Annabelle questions, latching onto her mother's vagueness.

"We had some fights," she admits truthfully after a few seconds. "There were a lot of things we didn't agree on while we were dating."

"Like what?"

Lexie licks her lips, noticing that she's inadvertently piqued her daughter's curiosity. "Lots of things, Belle," she replies absentmindedly. She tilts her head towards the young girl, catching her eye with a warm smile. "But nothing that matters anymore."

. . .

_10 PM_

. . .

"So Anna asked me how we met today," Lexie says as she walks into their bedroom.

"She did?" Mark asks, glancing over at her with interest from the dresser.

"Uh-huh," Lexie affirms. "She wanted to know what we did on our first date."

Mark smirks at the mention, pulling a t-shirt over his bare chest. "And what did you tell her? Not the truth, I'd hope."

Lexie shakes her head. "Just the usual. I met you at work, liked you, and asked you out." She grins over at him. "We ate Chinese while watching a corpus colostomy."

"Oh, we had our first date in front of Derek?" Mark frowns. "Really? Derek?" He grins a second later, nudging her with an elbow. "So was watching a surgery while eating take-out better than showing up at my door naked?"

"I wasn't naked," Lexie corrects, shoving him playfully. "And plus, how would I know? You've never watched a surgery with me."

"Oh, do I hear the winds of complaint blowing my way?" Mark asks, lifting a hand to his ear to mimic listening to far-off sounds. "Should we have more surgery-and-Chinese dates?"

"Maybe," Lexie smiles, walking over and crossing her arms above his back so her elbows are resting on his shoulders.

"Okay, I'll make you a deal," Mark offers, turning to catch her eye as she places her head on his shoulder to look in his eyes. "I'll take you out on a surgery date next week…_if_ you'll pull another 'Teach me' afterwards."

"Nope," Lexie replies automatically, stepping back and shaking her head as he turns around. "Not happening."

"Why _not_?" Mark groans.

"I gave you a repeat once," Lexie reminds him. "I'm not doing it again."

"Oh, come on, that time was _amazing_." He grins, catching her eye with a mischievous glint in his. "I really didn't see it coming, you know."

"Yeah, I could tell," Lexie smirks, walking to her dresser. "You stared at me silence for a good two minutes. Good thing that didn't happen the first time, by the way," she adds. "I would have run out without a backward glance. I only had so much courage, you know."

"You would have left in just your bra and jeans?" He smirks. "Right. I think I would've been able to come to my senses quick enough to stop you. And come on," Mark pleads. "One more time. Our twelfth anniversary is in a few weeks, you know," he reminds his wife, walking up behind her and placing his hands possessively on her hips.

"_No._" Lexie shakes her head adamantly, but Mark can see a small smile on her face and hear laughter in her voice.

"I can rent a room at the Archfield," he offers suggestively into her ear.

Lexie sighs, turning around to face him. "And what will we do with Anna?" She asks in exasperation.

"She has friends," Mark shrugs. "She can sleep over at one of their places."

Lexie puts her hands on her hips, looking away in disapproval. …But it doesn't take more than ten seconds for her to look back over, catch her husband's eye, and let a secretive smile spread her lips wide.

"Come on," Mark goads. "You know you want to."

Lexie looks down, shaking her head briefly before looking up to meet his eyes. _Oh, what the hell? _She thinks. "You know what?" She smiles. "I'll do it."

Mark grins at her, leaning forward to kiss her. "You pick the OR and I'll pay for the food," he tells her.

"Well," Lexie begins. "Arizona's got a tonsillectomy next—"

"Eh," Mark interrupts. "Peds is boring."

"Hey!" Lexie protests.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mark apologizes quickly as Lexie rolls her eyes at his insincere words. "Did I say 'boring?' I meant 'incredibly interesting.'"

"Right, and watching you manipulate a single piece of skin for three hours _isn't _boring," Lexie shoots back.

Mark grins. "I don't think you'd be complaining if it was _your_ skin."

Lexie exhales loudly in disapproval, causing the air to gust up past her forehead and scatter a few stray strands of hair. "_Everything _has to turn into an innuendo with you. Really. _Everything_."

"It keeps you on your toes. Plus," he murmurs, walking behind her back. "I remember you saying once that my surgeries turned you on."

"That was a _joke_," Lexie corrects, feeling her shoulder twitch involuntarily as his breath passes by it. She turns around to look him in the eye as he walks to his side of the bed. "If you care to remember, I was _joking_."

"Yes, and that's why you showed up demanding sex after watching me operate."

"I thought we established that it was more than that," Lexie reminds him testily.

He grins. "_Was it_, though? I mean really, Lex?" He laughs aloud when she glares at him. "Okay," he murmurs a moment later, as they settle into bed beside each other. "What about Derek? I think he's doing some kind of aneurysm thing tomorrow."

Lexie frowns. "There's a huge chance that surgery could end up in death, though," she tells him. "And I don't want to be depressed after our date."

"Fine," Mark replies. "Should we go to Meredith's general, then?"

Lexie sighs loudly. "I _guess_."

Mark waits a minute before sighing just as loudly. "Or we could go to Arizona's tonsillectomy…" He offers reluctantly.

"Oh, _can we_?" Lexie gushes with exaggerated fervor.

"You're the worst," Mark chuckles, knowing her enthusiasm was only half-staged.

"Thank you," she replies genuinely, kissing him quickly. "The surgery's next Wednesday." She pauses, and he's half-convinced that, even after all these years, she's still forcing herself not to blush at the mention of their first night together. "And, um, just tell me the room number and I'll meet you there on the twenty-second."

Mark grins, leaning forward to place his hand on her cheek and kiss her lovingly. "You truly are the best wife."

Lexie smiles, pulling away for a moment to turn off the lights beside their bed before settling back against him again. "I know I am," she grins smugly, happily listening to his amused laughter.

. . .

"This is my _fifth_ surgery today," Arizona Robbins calls up to the gallery. "And I will you ask _one _more time: Are you _sure_ you don't want to take it off my hands?"

Lexie smiles, shaking her head. "Sorry, I'm off the clock. Just here for enjoyment."

Arizona shakes her head. "You're here to taunt me with your time off, aren't you?"

Lexie chuckles, smiling down at her old mentor. "Maybe just a bit," she replies as she hears the door open behind her and the aroma of freshly cooked Chinese food fills the small room. She turns, catching her husband's eye with a smile and tapping the seat of the chair next to her.

"Okay," he says, setting the food on the ground between them a moment later and taking his seat. "What did I miss?"

"Not much. It's just starting."

While the surgery went on below them, Mark and Lexie quizzed each other on obscure medical facts pertaining to the operation. Whoever missed an answer had to let the other take some of the their food. The game ended after five minutes, when Mark declared her photographic memory to be an 'unfair advantage' and argued that it was practically cheating since she could simply look up all the answers in her mind. Lexie replied that if he'd only been _half _as smart as she was, he'd be able to win back some of his food.

It took almost all of his self-control not to dump a container of lo mien on her head in retaliation.

Upon seeing his annoyance, though, Lexie had leaned over, deliberately brushed her breasts against his arm, and whispered in his ear that she'd make it up to him later. Mark didn't complain about her stealing his food the rest of the operation; at times, he even went so far as to offer her some of his.

. . .

"This won't work," Lexie calls through the door a week later.

"Why won't it work?" Mark asks. His reply comes muffled, as if he's on the other side of the room.

"Because," Lexie groans. She glances down either side of the hallway, but upon seeing no one else around, she leans her forehead against the wooden door. "I'm old," she explains. "And I need to look young. And hot," she adds.

"What?" She can hear him laugh from the other side of the door. It opens a moment later, and his smirking face meets hers. "To impress me?"

She eyes him momentarily before muttering, "Maybe," under her breath.

Mark grins, reaching out to brush his fingers against the side of her hip. "Well, don't worry about that," he tells her. "You look hot."

Lexie glares at him. "You are a terrible, terrible liar, Mark Sloan."

"Oh, what, you don't trust me?" He asks, pretending to act offended.

Lexie cracks a smile. "Not at all."

"Come over here, then," he smirks, reaching out to tug her closer. "Come over here and I'll tell you just how good you look, baby."

"Mark," Lexie chides.

"You're not old," he assures her. "I'm serious," he adds when she raises her eyebrows skeptically. "And—what, you said you won't look as good?" He shakes his head sadly. "Lex, you look _amazing_."

"Please," she dismisses, looking away. "You're just saying that so I'll come inside."

"No, I'm saying that because it's true." He smiles at her, reaching up and brushing some hair behind her ear. "You look beautiful, baby. I promise that's the truth."

She sighs, closing her eyes for a few moments.

"If you don't want to do this, you don't have to," he tells her. "I'm not going to care—"

"Of course you're going to care," Lexie replies impatiently. She sighs a moment later, waving him away. "Fine, fine, go inside."

Mark opens his mouth to tell her again that they don't need to do this, but instead, knowing she'd only push the subject, he turns around and closes the door behind him.

She knocks on the door a second later, still wondering how to act. She's torn between staying normal and attempting to re-enact that first time when he opens the door. Not knowing which to pick, Lexie simply steps forward, kissing him hard on his surprised mouth. Her hands sweep through the short hairs on the back of his neck and across the unshaven scruff on his cheeks.

"I love you," she whispers when she pulls back, her hands still splayed across his familiar cheeks.

He smiles at her and rests his forehead against hers. "I love you, too," he replies softly.

Before he can speak again, her hands are sinking down to his chest and undoing the buttons on his shirt. She decides that tonight will fall somewhere between the old and the new. "And I want you," she whispers, leaning forward to trail her kisses across the neckline of his undershirt. She brings her body against his as she can feel his hands wrapping around her waist and drawing her closer. "I want you so badly, Dr. Sloan."

"Lex," she hears him murmur as he shudders against her.

"What?" She whispers softly, innocently. "Don't you want me too?"

He stares at her, holding her head securely between his hands, and offers her a genuine smile. "I've always wanted you," he replies, his voice coming out so soft she knows he's dropped the act. "And I'll always want you."

She smiles up at him. "Good," she replies. A second later, she bends forward, letting their lips meet and seducing him into a long, slow kiss. "Will you make this night something I'll never forget?" She asks quietly, her eyes sultry as they find his when their mouths part for a moment. Her lips ghost over his, soft and loving. "Will you make this a night to remember?"

He stares at his wife, stepping forward and pulling her closer to him with a familiar hand on her waist. "Isn't every night?" He murmurs with a gentle smile, staring down at the love of his life. She smiles back up at him, her eyes lit up with excitement and warmed with happiness.

"Let's make this one stand out, then," she suggests, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulls her close, drawing her inside and shutting the door loudly behind them.

. . .

_10 AM_

. . .

Coming back into consciousness slowly, Lexie takes a deep breath before blinking her eyes open. She hears Mark wake and yawn beside her, muttering a few incoherent syllables. She positions her head more comfortably against her husband's shoulder, burrowing her cheek against his skin, and letting a small smile spread over her lips as she lets her eyes open slowly.

"Morning," he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. Lexie tilts her head, lifting her mouth to meet his.

"Morning," she whispers back a moment later as they pull apart later. She lets her head rest back on his chest again, and in return he reaches out an arm to draw the rest of her naked body against his.

"So," he begins quietly, rubbing the soft skin of her bare back. "How'd it compare?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Lexie smiles to herself, letting her eyes wander around the room, and letting the memories from the night before flood her brain, fueled by the sight of scattered clothes and half-eaten dinners. "It was wonderful," she tells him after a moment. "As always."

He chuckles at her quiet reply, leaning over to press a kiss to her hair. "Good to hear. It was for me, too."

They lie in silence for a few minutes more before Lexie sighs, rolling to her side to look her husband in the eye.

"Do you miss this?" She asks softly, her eyes only half-open as they stare at him.

"Miss what?" Mark asks with a yawn, turning on his side as well.

"This," she replies, moving closer until their foreheads touch. Her hand cups his shoulder lightly. "Things being lazy and easy and… and us. Just us. Do you miss us, the old us?"

"I like the new us," Mark replies.

"But do you miss what we used to be, when we were young and just… fooling around?" She smiles, her eyes darting around the room as she remembers the first time she'd showed up at his hotel.

"Yes," Mark replies truthfully after a moment. "I do miss the old us. But you know what?" He pauses, and she stares at him, waiting. "I like the new us better," he finishes, catching her eye. "A lot better. We've…" He sighs slowly, staring into her eyes. "We've evolved," he settles on softly. "We're married, we have a daughter… We're a family. We aren't just two idiots sneaking in and out of on-call rooms and hotels anymore."

Lexie smiles, kissing him. "Twelve years."

Mark grins back. "If I had champagne in my hand, I'd toast you."

Lexie looks over her shoulder at the table across the room, her eyes scanning the leftovers from their room service. "I think we drank it all last night," she observes with a smile, her eyes lingering on the tipped-over bottle.

"Well," Mark says, popping himself up against the headboard. He reaches an arm out, snaking it around his wife's waist and pulling her towards him. "We'll just have to order more, then, won't we?"

Lexie chuckles, kissing him quickly before attempting to get up. "I'd love to, but—"

"No 'but's," Mark murmurs, kissing her again. She laughs into the kiss, returning it for a moment before forcing herself to pull back.

"Again," she begins, "I'd love to. But we have to get back home…"

"No, we don't."

"Mark."

"What?" He replies innocently, pretending not to hear the disapproval in her tone.

"We have a daughter waiting for us to come home."

"Right." He grins. "About that, I called the Franklins last night and told them we wouldn't be home until noon."

Lexie stares at him blankly. "You didn't," she states a moment later in disbelief.

"I did," he affirms with a smile. "What?" He asks a moment later. "Jackie understood; she said Anna could stay at their place with Hannah until we got home. And come on," he smirks. "You can't tell me you're not grateful for my forethought."

Lexie just shakes her head, but shifts towards him nonetheless. Their lips meet immediately, crashing together and breaking apart over each other's skin in growing excitement, just before Lexie pulls back. "We're bad parents," she whispers breathlessly, putting a hand on his chest to separate them.

"We're fine parents," Mark murmurs back, his hands drawing her closer despite her half-hearted attempts to put some space between them. "And don't worry about Anna," he adds a moment later, "I'm sure she's more than happy to spend a few more hours at her best friend's house."

"I know that, I just…"

"Lex," Mark murmurs, moving to cradle her face in his hands. She holds her breath, staring at him. "We get one day a year, all to ourselves. One day. _If _that," he adds with a small smile. He stares at her. "Look, I love Anna as much as you do, but I'm not running to pick her up if she's having a perfectly fine time at Jackie and Greg's place with Hannah. …_Especially _when I know that you and I have a couple more hours to ourselves for once…"

"Mark…"

"Lex," he murmurs. "We get one day a year, baby." He stares deep into her eyes, and for a split-second, Lexie is transported back to another time—another life, almost—when words to that effect were uttered much more seriously, in broken fragments, with sad eyes. "One day," he repeats, and his expression snaps her back to reality. "All for ourselves. Just us." The smile just barely turning up his lips and lighting up his eyes cause her to forget all about the past and what they used to be.

"Oh, come on," he mutters after a moment. "Enjoy it with me, will you?"

Lexie closes her eyes, and he watches with satisfaction as a smile spreads over her face. She sighs a moment later, finally giving in as he knew she would. "You're just lucky I love you so much," she mumbles by way of explanation, leaning forward to kiss him.

"Yes," Mark murmurs through the kiss. He smiles when she pulls back. "I am."

. . .

_Fourteen_

_. . ._

"Hey, Anna B," Mark greets his daughter cheerfully as she walks in the front door. "How was school?"

"Fine," she mutters, walking quickly past him and heading for her room.

Mark stares after her, following behind as she climbs the stairs to her room. "What's wrong?" He calls from the foot of the steps.

"Nothing," Annabelle replies over her shoulder. Her breath catches for a moment, but she covers her mouth before her emotions can betray her. "I'm—I'll be upstairs," she manages before darting to her room.

Mark stares after her, confused, curious, and worried. "Okay," he mutters, reluctantly walking back towards the kitchen.

. . .

There's a knock on her door ten minutes later. "Can I come in?"

Her response is muffled by the white door. "I'd prefer it if you didn't."

The door eases open anyway, and Mark sticks his head in. "Sorry. My house." He glances at her, watching as she hangs up her phone before wiping her face quickly with the back of her hand. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing," Annabelle replies, looking away.

Mark put his hands in his pockets, taking a step into the room. "Is this about a boy?" He asks carefully, glancing at his daughter out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" Annabelle snaps, outraged. "God, no, it isn't about a _boy_. And I wouldn't talk to _you _about it even if it was!"

"Okay, okay," Mark replies easily, holding out a hand to calm her down. "Fine. What is it, then? Did something happen at school?"

Annabelle ignores the question, taking a sharp breath. "When's Mom getting home?"

"She's at work," Mark replies.

"Yes, I know she's at work," Annabelle snaps impatiently. "Will you just tell me when she's getting back?"

Mark sighs, glancing down at his watch. "In about forty minutes," he answers. He looks back up, staring at his daughter. "Belle," he begins softly. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"I'd rather talk to Mom about this."

"Well, she's not here right now." He pauses, waiting for her to explain what she's so upset about. "Anna," he murmurs after a few seconds. "If you'd just tell me—"

Annabelle's lip trembles as she turns to look at him. "Dad…"

"Yeah?" He asks softly, sitting on the edge of her bed. "What is it?"

"Hannah's parents are…" She sniffs, looking away. "They're getting _divorced._"

Mark takes a steadying breath, absorbing this. "Hannah Franklin's parents?"

"Yes, what other Hannah do you know?" Annabelle replies angrily. "She's only been my best friend since, I don't know, I was _five_!"

"Okay, easy. I was just checking."

"They're getting divorced and she—she was so upset she had to leave school. And I—I heard…"

"What?"

"I heard her dad was sleeping with someone else, and that's why they're getting divorced. He's—he's running off with some skank from his office and Hannah can't even look at him and all her mom does is cry and—" Her voice dissolves into tears as Mark's tackled head-on in a hug that takes his breath away.

"Annabelle," Mark whispers, hugging her back. "Sweetheart, it'll be okay. These things work themselves out—"

"But it won't be okay," she cries into his shoulder. "Lauren told me on the bus that Jacob Bresley's parents are getting separated too and—" She pulls back to look him in the eye, her chin trembling. "And what if you and Mom get divorced? What if—what if one of you leaves and—" She leans forward, catapulting herself into his arms again. "You can't go, Daddy, please—I love you."

"Hey," Mark murmurs, rubbing up and down her back soothingly. He smiles slightly at the use of the name, 'Daddy.' He can't remember her calling him that since she was ten. "I love you too, Belle. And I promise you I won't ever leave you or your mother, okay? We're a family. We love each other."

Anna hiccups through her tears, pulling back slowly. "That's what Hannah, thought, too," she whispers. "And now her Dad's leaving."

"I'm _not _going anywhere, Belle."

"It doesn't have to be you!" She protests desperately. "What—what if Mom leaves? What if she leaves us and I—I won't have a mother anymore?"

"Anna," Mark murmurs. "You'll always have a mother. And yours isn't going anywhere anytime soon."

"But what if she does—"

"_Annabelle_," Mark cuts in, more harshly than he'd initially intended. He softens his voice a second later, staring his daughter in the eyes. "She isn't leaving, okay?"

Anna shakes her head, thrusting herself neck-deep in denial. "You don't know that. Hannah's mom didn't know and one day he just left. He just left her all alone and—"

"If I tell you something," Mark interrupts quietly, "will you promise not to worry about either your mom and I leaving again?" Annabelle pauses, considering the offer, before nodding.

"Alright," he sighs. He begins quietly, with the basics: "Before we were married, your mother was with someone else."

"A boyfriend?" Anna guesses.

"No, no, not a boyfriend. She was… Belle, your mom was married to someone else."

"She was? Why didn't she…" Annabelle trails off, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. "Did he die?" She whispers, seeing that as the only logical conclusion as to why he wouldn't be brought up in conversation.

"No," Mark replies slowly, trying not to remember all those years he had spent wishing just that would happen. "He didn't die."

"Then…what? What happened to him?"

"Your mother left him," Mark replies. He lets his voice trail off, staring at her unblinkingly for a short moment before her eyes widen in realization.

"For you?" Annabelle asks, her eyes wide. "She left him for _you_?"

Mark nods. "Don't look so surprised," he tells her, giving his daughter a small smile. He sobers a second later. "We were… very much in love, your mother and I, and it took some time, but we both eventually realized that we had made a mistake by letting each other slip by. And, at one point, I spoke with her about it and she agreed to leave him… But she wanted to make sure I'd be there for her if she did."

"And you were?"

"And I was," Mark affirms. "I haven't left her side since and she hasn't left mine, either."

Annabelle sits back, processing this. She wipes her eyes with her palms.

"So," Mark begins. "Next time, before you start freaking out that I'm going to leave or your mother's going to leave, just remember that this has already happened with us. We survived through it and we're still together. And we're… we're very committed to each other, okay, Belle? We won't be leaving one another, or you, anytime soon. Ever."

Annabelle nods. "Okay."

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

"And Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for telling me."

"You should know," is his only response before getting up, leaving the room, and closing the door quietly behind him.

. . .

"I'm home," Lexie calls as she walks in the front door twenty minutes later. She takes off her coat, hanging it up by the peg on the door before calling up the staircase. "Anna, you here?" She frowns at the muffled reply, walking through the ground floor until she finds her husband in their bedroom. "Hey," she calls with a smile. "How was your day?"

"Fine," he replies shortly from his seat on the edge of the bed.

Lexie stares at him for a moment before crossing her arms. "Okay," she begins, "want to tell me what's wrong? Anna didn't even open her door to say hello when I walked in, and then I find you in here skulking…"

Mark sighs, taking a few steps toward her. He decides not to sugarcoat things. "Jackie and Greg are getting divorced."

"What?" Lexie breathes, her face going blank with shock. "What happened? I just talked to Jackie last week—"

"Apparently," he begins slowly, coming to a stop in front of her, "from what I heard from Anna, Greg was…" He meets his wife's eyes. "Screwing around."

"With who?" Lexie whispers.

Mark shrugs. "Someone from work, I guess."

Lexie lifts a hand, rubbing her forehead. She takes a deep breath, and she drops her hand a moment later. "Anna knows?" She asks quietly.

Mark nods. "She's the one who told me."

Lexie closes her eyes, bringing a hand to her forehead. "This must be so hard on Hannah…"

"I think she's taking off school for a couple days." Mark pauses. "But, Lex, what I wanted to talk about… It wasn't exactly that."

"Then what did you want to talk about?"

He swallows, forcing the lump in his throat farther down. "I… I told her."

"You told who what, Mark?" Lexie asks tiredly, already lost in planning what she'll have to say to her daughter.

"I told Anna about…us. About what we were, about Jackson."

"You… You…" Lexie trails off, shaking her head in disbelief. "You _what_?" She wonders aloud, not completely comprehending his words.

"Lex, she was sobbing," Mark explains himself quickly, his quiet tone matching hers. "And she wouldn't listen when—"

"What did you tell her?" Lexie whispers, her eyes wide and frightened.

Mark stares at her in confusion, stepping forward and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Lex, I didn't tell her anything. What are you so worried about—"

"How much does she know?" Lexie whispers. She sniffs, staring at her husband. "Please," she whispers a second later. "Just tell me. Just—"

"Lex," he interrupts softly, his voice hushed in confusion. "What are you talking about? What are you worried about?"

"Don't stall," she mutters. "Please just tell me what you told her."

"I… I told her you were married to someone else," he begins slowly, watching her expression. "I told her we were in love, and that I convinced you to leave him for me… I told her we'd never been apart since then. That's…all I told her, Lex."

"That's…" Lexie trails off, staring at him straight in the eyes as if trying to force the truth out. "That's… _it_?" She whispers after a moment, her gaze softening as her face washes with relief. Mark stares at her, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion at the air of wonder about her words.

"Yes," he replies slowly. "Why?" He asks a second later. "What were you expecting, that I'd tell her everything, every little detail?"

Lexie swallows, looking up at him and pressing her lips together like she's struggling not to cry. "You didn't… You didn't even mention what happened between us? All—all those years we were together? Seattle, Portland, everything that…" She swallows roughly. "Everything that happened between us?" She finishes softly.

"Of course not," Mark replies, slightly alarmed. He stares at her. "Why in the world would I tell her all that?"

Lexie shrugs, a relieved laugh bubbling to the surface. "I—I don't know," she replies. "Maybe you…thought she deserved to know the truth, or something…"

"And what?" Mark asks. "What then? Why would it be so bad to tell her, besides the fact that there's no reason she should know all those details?"

"I just… I didn't want you to have told her and then…" Lexie bites her lip, meeting her husband's eyes. "Mark, what if she hated me over it?" She whispers. "I—I couldn't stand it if she hated me."

"Lex," he murmurs reassuringly. "She doesn't hate you. Nothing you've done could make her hate you."

"Mark, I am her mother. I'm supposed to be her role model, I'm supposed to show her the difference between right and wrong. I'm—I'm not supposed to be a lying adulterer." She stares up into his blue eyes, hoping to find some solace in them. "I'm not supposed to have run away from my family in the middle of the night, year after year…"

"Yes, to be with your _real _family," Mark corrects quietly.

Lexie stares at him, cracking a small smile after a tense minute. "Exactly," she whispers after a moment.

Mark smiles at her, reaching out to lift her chin up so he can look in her eyes. "Are we okay here?" He asks softly.

Lexie nods, letting her eyes fall closed. When Mark steps forward and wraps his arms around her a second later, she hugs him back, tucking her head into his shoulder. "I love you," she whispers into his ear.

. . .

A few minutes later, Lexie is ascending the stairs in her home, slowly heading for the room on far end of the upper hallway. She knocks on her daughter's door lightly. "Anna?" She calls. "Can I come in?" She pushes open the door a moment later, after receiving an affirmative answer, and steps inside. Her daughter is lying on her bed, staring off into space.

"I heard you wanted to talk to me…"

Annabelle looks over, catching sight of her visitor. She stares at her mother for a long minute before whispering, "Dad told you about Hannah's parents, didn't he?"

Lexie nods, leaning against the edge of her daughter's bed. "He did." She glances over to her teenager. "How are you doing?"

Annabelle shrugs. "I'm… okay, I guess. I was talking to Hannah before, but she said she just wanted to be alone for a while."

Lexie nods slowly. "If you want, and it's okay with her and her mom, I can drive you over there later."

Annabelle's eyes light up with gratitude and a smile takes shape on her lips. "Thanks, Mom," she whispers. "That's—that'd be great."

"So," Lexie murmurs a few minutes later, breaking the still silence in the room, "your Dad said—"

"Mom?" Annabelle interrupts quietly, catching her mother's eye when the older woman turns her head. "Were you really married to someone else?"

"I was," Lexie replies softly, finding the admission not as hard to say aloud as she thought it would be.

"And you—you left that other guy for Dad?" Lexie nods. "…Why?" Annabelle wonders.

Lexie shrugs. "I didn't love him, Belle. Simple as that."

"You loved Dad?" Annabelle guesses with a small smile.

Lexie smiles back, nodding. "I did." She looks her daughter in the eye a moment later. "Now, Belle, I haven't spoken to Jackie yet, so I don't know what her situation with Greg is like… But in my experience, divorcing someone is a very serious action. You shouldn't do it unless you're sure you have to."

"I think she had to," Annabelle mutters under her breath. A half second later, she raises her voice, directing her words at her mother again. "But… What about you? Did you have to?"

Lexie nods sadly. "Yeah."

"So you couldn't have stayed with him? That first guy?"

"Not when I felt like dying everyday."

Annabelle's face twists in sympathy. "Oh, Mom…"

Lexie shakes her head, smiling softly at her daughter's pity. "Annabelle, this is important, okay, so I want you to listen. I know you're young," she cracks a smile when Anna rolls her eyes, "but I hope if I tell you now, you'll remember this: if you find someone you love—and they love you just as much—you _stay with them_. No matter what the circumstances are, no matter what the situation is, if you find someone you truly love, hold onto them with all you've got, okay? If you're strong enough to hold on, they'll be strong enough to stay with you, to come back."

"Is that…" Annabelle licks her lips, curious. "Is that what Dad did with you? He held on because he loved you?"

"We both did, but yes, he held on very tightly." Lexie smiles. "He's never been good at letting people go. I'm sure it'll be hell when you go off to college," she adds lightly a second later.

"He'll survive without me," Annabelle laughs.

Lexie gives her daughter a small smile. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"He'll have you."

Lexie's smile widens as she stares at her daughter. "Yes. He will."

"And come on, Mom, that's four years away. That's forever."

Lexie chuckles quietly, straightening back up and walking to the door. "Oh, just you wait. Time will start flying by soon, I'm sure."

"Mom?" Annabelle calls just before her mother leaves. Lexie hesitates in the doorway, turning towards her daughter.

"Yeah?"

The young girl bites her lip, looking down at her bedspread before meeting her mother's eyes. "Thanks for telling me," she whispers. "And about you and Dad, I'm—I'm glad you let him hold on. I'm glad you came back."

Lexie feels herself grin at her daughter's words, unable to hide her gratitude for her daughter's approval, no matter how ignorant it might be. "Me too," she replies after a second. "I'm glad too, Peach."

. . .

"How'd it go?" Mark asks quietly, meet his wife at the bottom of the stairs.

"Fine," Lexie replies with a smile. She stares at him, easily noticing that old worried look in his eyes. "Hey," she begins softly, walking towards her husband. "That was one conversation, okay? She knows about him, that doesn't mean anything—"

"Yeah, yeah," Mark waves a hand, brushing away her reassurance. He looks to the floor, chagrined at being so easily seen through. "It's just… old wounds, you know?"

"I made a life with _you_, Mark," Lexie reminds him seriously. She steps towards him, making a point to hold his gaze even though he tries to avert hers. "I married _you_ and I have a daughter with you."

"I know," he replies quietly. He glances up to the second floor a moment later, but their child is nowhere near. "Speaking of that daughter we have…" A smile curves up his lips. "She called me 'Daddy' today."

"Aw," Lexie smiles, already feeling her mood grow light again now that they're all on the same page. She takes one last step towards him and slips her hand within his, squeezing his fingers. "That's sweet," she murmurs warmly.

"She hasn't done that in years," Mark mumbles softly, almost to himself. Lexie nods, looking into his worried blue eyes. "She's growing up," he states a moment later, grasping her hand firmly and meeting her dark eyes.

"I know," Lexie agrees.

"Fast," he adds, looking away.

Mark hears his wife sigh slowly, and when she speaks next, her words come out much softer than before. "I know," she whispers.

"We'll all be okay?" He asks quietly, turning his head and focusing his worried gaze on his wife.

She smiles encouragingly in return, squeezing his hand with the quiet reassurance she knows he needs. "We'll all be okay," Lexie replies. She lifts his hand to her mouth, kissing his skin gently. "I know we will. Don't worry, alright?"

He squeezes her hand tightly. "I won't," he promises, staring into her dark brown eyes.

_. . ._

**_We can always look back at what we did_**

**_All those memories of you and me, baby_**

**_But right now, it's you and me forever, girl_**

**_And you know, we could do better than anything that we did,_**

**_You know that you and me—_**

**_We could do anything._**

_. . ._

_Author's Note:_ Wow. I can't believe this story is finally over.

I'm not sure if you guys have realized this, but I originally began this story as a solution to a worst-case scenario. I wrote almost all of it during the time that Mark and Lexie were broken up and while she was dating Jackson. Personally, I'm a very pessimistic person—I was sure Mark and Lexie were done for, so I wrote this fic to make myself feel better about their ruined relationship. I figured that even if she stuck with Jackson on the show, I knew that behind the scenes, she was still with Mark. And through this, I got to have my own little happy ending :)

But thankfully, I (we) don't have to worry about _that_ possibility anymore! XD And hopefully he'll dump Julia soon so they can get back together… Maybe we'll get a _real _happy ending by the end of the season :)

**Thank you all** **so much** for reading! Your continued support and feedback has meant so much to me, especially considering what a long haul this story turned out to be. (I still can't believe it's over…)

**Please leave me a final review on the story (and this chapter) below!**


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